The Way Things Were
by Majestik Moose
Summary: Qui-Gon survived the battle with the Sith and took Anakin as his new Padawan. Obi-Wan is left in the shadows with knowledge of Anakin’s future and when Qui-Gon doesn’t listen, things begin to take a turn for the worst. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** The Way Things Were

**Summary: **Qui-Gon survived the battle with the Sith and took Anakin as his new Padawan. Obi-Wan is left in the shadows with knowledge of Anakin's future and when Qui-Gon doesn't listen, things begin to take a turn for the worst.

**Rating:** T. Mostly for some dark related themes in future chapters.

**Disclaimer:** The only thing that belongs to me is the planet Morte. Any mistakes you see are mine as well.

**A/N: **Just a little background info before you read. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan both defeated Darth Maul unscathed. Qui-Gon continued his plan to train Anakin himself thus forcing Obi-Wan into knighthood. Get it? Got it? Good. :)

The story may seem a little fast paced. I don't really know. It's my first Star Wars multi-chapter fic. I'm hoping I did well enough on it.

* * *

Chapter 1.

* * *

To say he wasn't happy would be a lie. In fact, Obi-Wan Kenobi was excited beyond words. He had worked long and hard to get to this point and it seemed that his many years of training had finally paid off. Those endless hours of studying and the numerous lightsaber spars had conclusively given him purpose. He was a Knight. He had been for a week now. It was truly one of the most rewarding experiences of his life. The thought of going on missions and handling things the way he wanted to was overwhelming. He was finally free to do what he wanted. But with that freedom, there was a downside; he was alone.

There wouldn't be anyone to seek comfort from on the tragic missions that would eventually be given to him. Who could he turn to for advice? The Council? They hardly provided any amount of consolation. There wouldn't be anyone to praise him for a job well done. No one would be there to tell him how proud they were of his efforts.

Obi-Wan reflected on these inevitable concepts and felt at a loss of what to do.

The one person he'd stuck with for over a decade was no longer at his side. He was at someone else's side. Someone no one really trusted; a child to be exact, a small boy from Tatooine who had immediately dug his way into Qui-Gon Jinn's heart; Anakin Skywalker. The boy was gifted with a midi-chlorian count so high it was amazing he hadn't been found before. This trait had been the reason Qui-Gon had taken him as his new apprentice.

An empty feeling had settled within the very core of his being. The kind of feeling where you know something is gone forever and it will never return. It ate away at him from the inside and out, and it wouldn't go away, no matter how hard he tried to make it. It seemed to never leave. It was always there, reminding him of the sheer desolation he was feeling.

Obi-Wan glanced around the garden. It was beautiful, as always, but somehow he didn't quite feel the natural mirth that would have usually sprouted inside of him when visiting the garden. As an Initiative he had spent a lot of his time here. It had always given him a sense of inner peace, one that would keep him in a good mood for the rest of the day. In a way, it was like a second home.

But today was different, it was almost as if every plant had wilted and taken on a shadowy and gloomy appearance. Nothing about it was peaceful. He almost turned away and left. But something kept him moving forward, something he never really felt before. He couldn't even begin to describe the feeling. It was almost as if someone was beckoning him to the garden, telling him he needed to be there.

He took a few tentative steps forward and felt the invisible bidding of his presence. Something about the garden didn't feel right. He just couldn't figure out what it was. A foreboding sense washed over him in a matter of seconds, but he pressed on.

He stopped underneath a medium sized tree. It looked healthy and had a powerful sense of life shooting out of it in waves only a Jedi could sense. It's proliferate branches extended out far enough to cast a relaxing shadow on the ground.

'_Perfect for meditating,'_ he thought as he slowly sunk to a kneeled position and looked around at his surroundings.

A brief smile grazed his lips. Everything was relatively quiet aside from the hushed whispers of Jedi Master Teige and his newly assigned Padawan, Keegan. The sight brought an unwanted pain to his chest that caused his heart to plummet all the way down to his stomach. The Master and Padawan were grinning; a grin that could only be found in a relationship that was so close that no amount of strength could ever tear it apart. Obi-Wan tore his gaze away from the two and tried to clear his mind despite the sudden stab of jealousy he felt.

In two hours time, he was to depart for his very first mission as a Jedi Knight. It wasn't unusual for the Council to send a recently knighted Jedi on a mission so soon, especially one so treacherous. Their intention is to see if he or she is truly ready for knighthood; to see if they can withstand the fierce battles and complications on distant planets without the presence of their former Master.

Morte was the name of the planet the Council had assigned him to. They said it would be dangerous and very risky, but he was ready for it. War was raging on the planet and had been for a very long time. There were no sides; the inhabitants had just simply started fighting each other. Each living creature left alone to defend for themselves. Everyone was against everyone. It was a world of chaos. Obi-Wan's goal was to meet with Morte's government officials and convince them to end the war.

One of his many skills as a Jedi was negotiation. Qui-Gon had always said he was born for it. So the mission to Morte seemed like a perfect way to start his life as a Jedi Knight. He just hoped he could do it without any trouble, but he was prepared to do whatever it took to make it work.

With one last dismal glance at Master Teige and Padawan Keegan, he settled himself into the meditative position and closed his eyes. The main objective was to calm his anxious nerves before he was to leave.

After a few moments, he was able to feel the Force course through his very being. It surrounded him and almost immediately he felt a reassuring sense of peace. It washed over him and calmed his racing heart. The nervousness he once felt disappeared and a feeling of serenity took its place. Every worry or fear he had about his upcoming mission was gone and left no indication that it was ever there in the first place. His heart didn't feel nearly as heavy and the icy chill that had recently wrapped around him was replaced with a warm and loving embrace. He felt a new strength bubble within him and it was as though the Force itself was telling him that nothing bad could possibly happen.

But the calming peace the Force provided couldn't last forever.

Darkness suddenly dominated over the Light. All hope for his mission diminished quickly like a candle caught in the wind. A cold, foreboding aura engulfed him and caused his slender body to shiver. The peace he felt before was shattered and replaced with an insecure disturbance. He could feel his heart start to pound against his chest, as though it was desperately trying to burst free of its ribbed prison. A ghostly shadow crept along his skin, suddenly making him cold again.

Images began to flash before him; all were filled with pain and regret. His breath hitched as the emotions became worse. He was suddenly struck with several visions all at once.

"_You're going down the wrong path, Anakin. This is not the way."_

_Anakin Skywalker ignited his lightsaber. Blue appeared as a sparkling light against the petrifying darkness._

"_No, Master. This is the only way."_

_Blue suddenly met green in a fury clash. Lightsabers sizzled and a battle began. Light against Dark. Love against Hate._

_Betrayal. Anger. Fear._

Obi-Wan felt the emotions intensify tenfold. It was almost unbearable, but he pushed on. Another vision danced in front of him and began to form into something even darker than the previous one.

_Pain. It was the only thing known to him. It tore at his heart and threatened to overcome his state of consciousness. An electric whip flared to life with a crackle and there was a blinding pain in his midsection. He embraced what little hope he still had and prayed to whoever was listening that it would all end soon. Another searing pain caused him to gasp. He felt the blood trickle down his chest, mixing with the sweat and grime that was already there. Hope. It was such a useless word to him. There was nothing left of him. Nothing but a shell of the man he once was. He had nothing to look forward to, and nothing to look back to. No anchor to keep him from fading, no one to tell him he was going to be okay. He was alone._

Obi-Wan could not see who the person was who emitted so much pain. The vision was gone before he had time to think about it. Sweat trickled down his face as he felt the pain each vision incased. Another began to form.

_Qui-Gon Jinn was fighting someone with ferocity and strength. Blue and green lightsabers flew wildly in their owners hands. They twirled and created a colorful blur. Green and blue locked in a battle of wits. The two beings glared at each other as they struggled to overpower their opponent. As they broke apart, the lightsabers once again became a whirl of color as they danced through the darkened atmosphere._

Obi-Wan felt as though his body was on fire. The pain grew and caused the previous vision to disappear in a matter of seconds. Yet he continued to embrace the visions and concentrate on their meaning, regardless of the distress he felt.

_Anakin was running through the Jedi Temple, using the Force to excel his momentum and slaughtering every being that interfered. Younglings screamed in terror as they fled their rooms. They were swiftly cut down by Anakin's blade. Only one child remained, and she sat in the corner, trying to hide from the man she once looked up to. Tears streaked down her young face and she gave a small whimper. Her dead classmates lay strewn around her in mangled heaps. Anakin moved towards her and she retreated even further into her corner._

"_Master Skywalker." She whimpered. "Why are you doing this?"_

_Anakin gave no answer. He simply gave his lightsaber a twirl and cut the child down as if she were nothing but a nuisance. His expression was emotionless. No regret, no pain, no sorrow._

_Masters assailed Anakin in a pitiful attempt to stop him but were killed in a matter of seconds. Darkness flowed through and around the young Skywalker. He was no longer the little boy from Tatooine. He was a murderer. A betrayer to the Jedi and all it ever stood for. _

_Qui-Gon suddenly entered the picture. His expression was impassive, unreadable. He ignited his lightsaber and approached Anakin with involuntary authority. _

_Anakin smirked. "Hello, Master."_

Obi-Wan couldn't breath. His lungs felt as though they were clogged with a thick substance. Another vision flew before him.

_Bodies lay strewn about the Temple. Masters atop their Padawans in an attempt to shield them from the invasion of Darkness, led by none other than Anakin Skywalker. Children lay cut in half, horror still written across their features._

Obi-Wan was vaguely aware of someone shaking him, but he couldn't concentrate on it. His head felt like it was about to explode, pain pulsing through his veins as the last vision appeared.

_A figure lay huddled in the corner of a dark and musty cell. Beaten, broken, and bloody. Sweat plastered his body, mingling with the blood on his torso. He curled into himself, wincing as the movement pulled at the welts on his back._

_'Please help me,'__ came the thought, voice unrecognized and without emotion. _

_A soft cry escaped his throat and heart wrenching sobs soon wracked his body. Physical and emotional pain was known to him in the worst ways possible. He'd been there for years, or at least it felt that way, and the endless torture never stopped. He could hear the screams clearly, whether they erupted from his own lungs or not was one of the many things he was unsure of._

_'Please…someone get me out of here. Please…'_

Obi-Wan's eyes flew open. He looked around, slightly dazed. A calming wave of the Force seemed to caress his weakened form and push all the pain aside. He blinked a few times, now fully aware that two beings were peering down at him cautiously.

"Knight Kenobi, can you hear me?"

He recognized the voice of Master Teige. The two humans who floated above him indicated that he was on his back. The other was Keegan. They were looking at him with wide eyes. All of the happiness they had felt when Obi-Wan last looked at them was completely gone.

"Are you okay?" The Padawan questioned curiously as he peered at Obi-Wan with large, chocolate brown eyes.

Master Teige smiled slightly. "Give him some room, Padawan."

Obi-Wan sat up carefully. His muscles felt tense and rigid. He let out a deep breath and looked up at Master Teige.

"What happened?" Obi-Wan asked softly. He was startled at how decrepit his voice sounded.

"You passed out there for a while. No more than a minute. I'm guessing those visions were a bit of a doozy."

Obi-Wan looked at him, clearly shocked that the older Jedi knew what he has just experienced. Had he been that obvious?

Master Teige only laughed, reading him like a book. "I know a vision when I see one."

The dozens of emotions came flying back at him and hit him like a Force-push. He exhaled shakily and took hold of the outstretched hand of Master Teige and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

"What did you see?" Keegan asked, his eyes wide and full of wonder.

"Shh, Padawan." Teige said softly with an affectionate tone. He looked back at Obi-Wan. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit shaken." Obi-Wan admitted as he rubbed the back of his head absently.

Master Teige nodded. "That's to be expected. You're lucky me and my apprentice were there. I was beginning to think I would have to fetch a mind healer."

"What happened?" Obi-Wan asked for the second time.

"You didn't look too well. We tried to talk to you but you were unresponsive, and you collapsed shortly after."

Obi-Wan felt his face flush with embarrassment. He now wished he had found a more private spot to meditate.

Master Teige smiled. "Not to worry. Experiencing a vision like that is nothing to be ashamed of. Visions aren't always correct and often predict what could happen rather than what will happen."

"Thank you, Master Teige." Obi-Wan said with a tight smile.

"Can you make it back okay?"

"Yes. I'll be fine."

Nothing could have been further from the truth.

--

Qui-Gon set a steaming cup of hot tea in front of his new apprentice, Anakin Skywalker. The boy set aside his model speeder he had been working on and held the cup with both hands, looking down at it curiously.

"What is it?" He asked, his blue eyes wide and full of wonder.

"E'thilian Tea." Qui-Gon answered, sitting down on the couch with his own mug. "I think you'll like it. Take a drink."

Anakin hesitated only for a few seconds. He brought the cup to his lips and swallowed the foreign brew. Almost immediately his eyebrows shot up and his tongue flew out of his mouth like a panting beast.

"'hat wa' weally hot!" He wheezed, talking with his tongue out of his mouth to emphasize the searing burn of the liquid.

Qui-Gon chuckled. "Stir it up for a little while. Then take another sip."

Anakin nodded, tongue still out of his mouth, and started to inhale and exhale quickly, even more resembling a creatures pant on a hot day.

A soft chime echoed throughout the apartment. Qui-Gon set his cup onto the side table and strode over to the front door, which slid open easily once he pressed his thumb against the panel on the wall. He was not at all prepared for the sight which greeted him.

"Obi-Wan." He whispered, somewhat dumbfounded by the sudden appearance of his former Padawan.

Obi-Wan stood in the doorway, his cloak wrapped tightly around his slender form. He looked at his old Master uncomfortably, as if he regretted coming in the first place.

"Come in." Qui-Gon said quickly. He stepped aside and allowed Obi-Wan to enter the apartment he had once called a home.

Obi-Wan wasn't prepared for the greeting Anakin gave him.

"Oh-Hee Wahn!" Anakin wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan's leg and smiled, despite his tongue which was still hanging out of his mouth.

"Hello Anakin." Obi-Wan smiled. "Why are you talking like that?"

"I 'urned my 'ongue." Anakin gestured to his mouth vigorously.

"Oh. Well, you look like Jar Jar. Sound a bit like him too."

Anakin furrowed his brow and placed his hands on his hips. "'hat not funneh!"

"He scalded his tongue when he took his first drink of E'thilian Tea." Qui-Gon explained.

"Ah. You'll like it, Anakin. I promise you." Obi-Wan ruffled the boys hair, which had been recently cropped into the Padawan hairstyle.

Qui-Gon couldn't keep the smile off his face when Anakin hurried back to his model kit he had been building earlier. Sometimes his Padawan's attention span was so limited…

"Master Jinn, I was hoping to speak with you about something." Obi-Wan's expression turned serious.

"Please, Obi-Wan. Formalities are not needed to speak with your old Master." Qui-Gon smirked.

Qui-Gon wondered why his former Padawan had come in the first place. They hadn't exactly spoken since his knighting ceremony, and Obi-Wan wasn't exactly thrilled during that point of time, so the conversations had been light.

"I hear you've been sent on a mission. I'm very proud of you." Qui-Gon said after a minute of stretched silence.

Obi-Wan nodded slightly. "I'm to leave in an hour."

"You've come to say goodbye then?" Qui-Gon inquired.

"Not exactly." Obi-Wan lowered his gaze for a split second. "As I said, I need to speak with you on an urgent matter."

Both Jedi turned to Anakin. He was in the process of bringing the cup of tea back to his lips, but froze when he saw the two staring at him. He licked his lips and set the mug down.

"Want me to leave, Master?" Anakin asked.

"Only for a little while. Obi-Wan and I need to speak in private."

Anakin nodded and scooped up his model parts into one arm and held his cup of tea in the other. He smiled at the two over his shoulder before scurrying off to his room, which had once belonged to Obi-Wan.

"Obi-Wan, what's the matter? I sense a great disturbance in the Force and I feel its coming from you."

"Master, I was in the garden earlier, meditating before the mission."

Qui-Gon beamed with pride. Obi-Wan was meditating on his own and at the right time. He was heading in the right direction in becoming a great Jedi.

"I was struck by several visions…." Obi-Wan trailed off and paused before continuing. "Master, this isn't going to be easy for you to hear, but I need you to listen to me."

Qui-Gon nodded.

Obi-Wan seemed nervous. There was a moment of brief hesitation. "Anakin will turn to the Dark Side."

Qui-Gon froze. The conversation from Obi-Wan's knighting ceremony flew back to him. Obi-Wan had said there was a danger in Anakin, resulting into an argument between them. Qui-Gon had defended Anakin when no one else would.

"Obi-Wan…" Qui-Gon pinched the bridge of his nose and placed a hand on his hip.

"I know it's hard to believe, but please, the things I saw him do…"

"Visions are not always correct Obi-Wan. You of all people should know that." Qui-Gon's voice came out a little more stern than intended.

"These weren't like any other vision, though." Obi-Wan looked at him gravely. "I felt every emotion, mentally and physically. Anakin was – "

"Obi-Wan, please. Anakin will not turn under my tutelage. I'm perfectly capable of teaching someone to stay in the Light."

The next words out of Obi-Wan's mouth slipped out before he could stop them.

"Like you did with Xanatos?"

--

Anakin sat on his bed cross legged with his model speeder in his lap and mug of tea on the bedside table. He had just finished putting the pieces together and was marveling in his craftsmanship. He held the miniature ship out in front of him at arms length and smiled.

'_I'm so good at this stuff.'_ He thought happily. _'Too bad Jedi don't build ships. I'd be great at it!'_

He set the model on a shelf with two others. He liked his latest one best. It had been more difficult, since you had to put the engine together as well as the frame. He was proud of himself to say the least.

After admiring his work for another twelve seconds, he walked over to the nightstand and picked up his mug of tea. There wasn't steam pouring out of it anymore, so he figured it was safe to drink. He made a mental note to tell Obi-Wan off if he didn't like it.

He brought the drink to his lips and took a drink bigger than Qui-Gon would have allowed. When he swallowed, his face split into a grin. This stuff was _good_. Better than he expected. It was sweet, but not too sweet. He couldn't quite place the flavor since he had been deprived of such things back on Tatooine. It didn't really matter though.

He took three more sips and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Instead of telling Obi-Wan off, he was going to hug him again. The man deserved to be hugged for being so truthful about the tea.

Anakin crawled back onto his bed and sat there with the tea sitting between his legs. He could hear Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan talking. He was slightly frustrated they had excluded him from the conversation. He was ten years old for goodness sake.

He took another sip of tea and unhooked his lightsaber from his belt. He flipped it onto the lowest setting and watched as the crystal blue beam hummed to life. He smiled and gave it a twirl, nearly dropping it in the process, not having fully perfected that move just yet.

Lightsabers, he decided, were the coolest part about being a Jedi. It was far more interesting than any other weapon he'd seen. It was prettier too. And you could get it in different colors. He'd wanted a blue one though. He couldn't really explain it, but something had made him choose a blue one. It was like someone inside his head was telling him that it suited him better. He had obeyed the voice as well as his gut feeling. He liked it better than green anyway. He'd seen Mace Windu's too, and his was purple. He didn't like that color very much. It was odd, and he hadn't seen any other Jedi with girly colors like Mace's. The Initiates in his classes bugged him enough about being the Chosen One. If he had a purple lightsaber as well, it would have certainly given him more attention than he wanted.

He gave a start when he heard raised voices and nearly let go of his saber. It was Qui-Gon. Anakin frowned and felt a growing apprehension. Qui-Gon hardly ever yelled. It made him feel slightly worried. Next, he heard Obi-Wan's voice which had also raised superiorly.

'_Why are they fighting? I thought they liked each other.' _Anakin wondered and took another sip of tea.

He tried to keep himself occupied, but there wasn't much to do. He chopped at the air with his lightsaber for a little bit, making squishy noises as if he were killing people.

"Listen to me!" Obi-Wan's voice was loud and Anakin cowered a little. He didn't like to hear them fight.

He gulped down the rest of his tea and set the mug aside. He turned his lightsaber off and hooked it back onto his belt. He took his pillow and stuffed it over his head in a pitiful attempt to block out the arguing Jedi in the next room. It didn't work, so he squeezed his eyes shut and pulled his legs up to his chest, resting his forehead on his knees and keeping the pillow over his head.

'_I'll wait them out,'_ Anakin thought bitterly. _'Then I'll go out and make them be friends again.'_

But the arguing went on for what felt like hours even though it was probably only a few minutes. Anakin remained in his protective position and kept himself busy by singing songs he had learned from his mother on Tatooine. It kept the voices away at least.

"Jealousy? You think this is about _jealousy_??" Obi-Wan's voice sounded again.

"I hardly see any other explanation for your behavior." Qui-Gon sounded calm, yet…not calm.

Anakin opened his eyes at the loud statement.

'_Why would Obi-Wan be jealous?'_ He asked himself.

Anakin chose not to think about it. He shut his eyes again and continued to sing softly, as if it would make everything better.

The shouting grew louder and drowned out his chorus of 'Little Blue Bantha'. He bit down on his lip and silently prayed it would end soon, but it didn't. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon continued to argue. He didn't try to listen, he didn't want to know.

The opening and closing of the front door indicated that Obi-Wan had left. Carefully unfolding himself, Anakin rolled off the bed and snuck over to his bedroom door. He reached up on tip-toe and pressed a button. The door hissed open and Anakin jogged down the hallway and into the main room.

"Master?"

Qui-Gon was facing the window, arms folded across his chest. Anakin shuddered. It didn't take a Force-sensitive being to feel the tension in the air. Slowly and reluctantly, Qui-Gon turned around and looked at Anakin.

"Yes, Padawan?"

Anakin chewed on his bottom lip and fiddled with the hem of his tunic. "Are you okay? I heard you and Obi-Wan yelling."

Qui-Gon frowned in sympathy and kneeled in front of him. "I'm sorry, Ani. You shouldn't have heard that."

"Are you still friends?"

Qui-Gon didn't answer. Instead he gave Anakin's hair a slight ruffle and went to the kitchen. Anakin trotted behind him.

"You know, if you lock yourselves in a room together then maybe you'll feel better. That's what my mom did when me and Kitster would get into a fight. After a little while we'd be playing outside again." Anakin offered.

Qui-Gon chuckled. "I'm afraid that would do more harm then good, Padawan."

Anakin wasn't quite sure what he meant by that, but the subject of conversation was soon forgotten when Qui-Gon poured him another cup of tea.

--

Obi-Wan left the apartment slightly hurt by his former Master's assumptions. The conversation had started out fine, for the most part, but the minute he mentioned Xanatos everything went downhill from there. Qui-Gon had accused him of being jealous of Anakin and it was the reason for his "so called visions" (as Qui-Gon had called them). It had made him angry, angrier than he should have been. He wasn't angry at Qui-Gon for saying it and he wasn't angry at him for thinking it. He was angry because it was true. He _was_ jealous of Anakin.

He knew he shouldn't feel so much envy for the boy. But it was inevitable. The way Qui-Gon treated the child was enough to make his heart ache. When Qui-Gon had accepted him as a Padawan learner over ten years ago, he had to strive to earn Qui-Gon's acceptance. He put in extra effort above and beyond what was necessary. He had to work so hard just to get the Jedi Master to smile at him.

But Anakin was a different story. Qui-Gon hugged him, smiled at him, laughed with him, cared for him, spent time with him, and loved him. Qui-Gon and Anakin had only known each other a little over a week and already they were much closer to each other than Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had been after a full year together. The very thought caused the empty feeling to grow larger in size.

He had no problem with Anakin, that part was true. The boy was full of life and would indeed become a very powerful Jedi, Dark Side or not. Where his frustration lay was with Qui-Gon. It confused him as to how easily he could allow another being into his life. Yes, he had an odd affection for pathetic life forms. But this was an actual person. It was a rare event for him to care for someone so deeply within such a short amount of time.

It was like Anakin and Qui-Gon were meant to be together, and he himself had just simply _been there _to heal Qui-Gon's broken heart after Xanatos's betrayal. It didn't seem fair.

'_Perhaps the Council will have something more beneficial to say than how weak I am in containing my emotions.'_ Obi-Wan thought to himself and rounded a corner, heading straight for the Council doors.

He paused before entering. Would the Council react in the same way Qui-Gon had? Would they contradict him without a second thought? He had no idea, but there was only one way to find out. The Council wouldn't be able to hurt him anymore than Qui-Gon already had. He fought past his stirring emotions and palmed the doors open. He glanced over his shoulder at the chronometer on the wall before entering. He only had a few minutes to spare before he was to leave for his mission. Hopefully it would be enough time.

"Knight Kenobi." Mace Windu greeted, somewhat surprised by the sudden intrusion.

"Knew you were coming, we did." Master Yoda said with a slight nod.

"How so, Master?" Obi-Wan asked as he proceeded to the middle of the floor.

"Master Teige and his Padawan came by earlier. He said you might stop by." Mace said in his usual monotone voice.

Obi-Wan remembered the two from the garden. They had helped him and had done so once again by informing the Council of his predicament. He made a note to thank them after the mission.

"Vision, you had?" Yoda inquired, placing a clawed hand on his gimer stick.

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan nodded briefly. "There were several of them."

Mace and Yoda exchanged glances, and a few other Council members looked at each other wearily.

"Tell us everything." Mace stated promptly.

Obi-Wan quickly told them all that had occurred in his vision. Not once did he leave out any information, no matter how great or small it was. He was glad someone was finally listening to him. It took a small amount of weight of his shoulders. When he finished, Mace looked slightly alarmed at the news while Yoda sat thoughtfully in his seat. There was an uncomfortable silence in which the Council pondered over the happenings of the visions. Mace eventually broke the silence.

"This is very odd. Visions normally occur during full consciousness, not during meditation." He said, glancing at Yoda.

"Happen anywhere, visions can. To the Force, it is up to. Trust in it, we must." Yoda responded thoughtfully.

There was another long moment of silence that seemed to go on for hours, and Obi-Wan wondered if he would miss his transport. Mace, once again, broke the silence.

"Anakin should not be trained." He said slowly.

Yoda shook his head. "Know if the vision will take place, we do not."

"It's obvious that the boy is a threat." Mace defended, his voice a little more stern than usual.

"Keep an eye on him, we will. But trained, Young Skywalker will still be."

Obi-Wan bowed respectively. "Yes, Master. Thank you for your help"

He turned to leave but stopped abruptly when Yoda spoke again.

"Great distress, I sense in you. Nervous, you are, about your mission?"

Obi-Wan honestly hadn't been thinking much of his mission during the past hour. But he didn't want to inform Yoda of his envy of Anakin. Instead, he nodded his head ever so slightly.

"Careful, you must be. Bad feeling, I have, about your mission." Yoda stared at him with those sagacious eyes of his. Obi-Wan nodded in response.

"Your transport is waiting outside." Mace said. "Good luck, Obi-Wan. May the Force be with you."

Obi-Wan bowed again and left the Council chambers. He immediately made for the exit in order to get to his transport. It was a relief to know that they would be watching Anakin. Maybe now he wouldn't turn to the Dark Side. Maybe the boy and Qui-Gon would live long fulfilling lives while he himself lived a lonely and regrettable life. Maybe that was how things were supposed to be. Maybe he was truly alone.

He boarded his transport and felt the emotions continue to swirl around him. He then came to a hesitant realization. He was no longer a Padawan, but a Knight. He and Qui-Gon's time together had ended. It was time to move on. His former life was gone while his new life was just beginning. It was the way things were.

The ship rumbled and eventually took off into the distance. He never looked back.

* * *

_To be continued._

* * *

**A/N: **I'm not really a fan of this first chapter. It was longer than intended. But hopefully everything makes sense. If you have any questions, just leave a review and I'll answer if I can without giving away spoilers. :)

Oh, and if you're looking for a happy ending to a sad fic, you're in the wrong place...


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thanks so much for the reviews. I really appreciate them. :)

* * *

Chapter 2.

* * *

One year later.

* * *

'_I don't care what they say,'_ Anakin thought bitterly. _'This_ is_ child abuse.'_

The eleven year old Padawan learner sighed heavily and readjusted his position so he could stretch out his aching back. He rolled his shoulders and heard a faint popping noise; he grimaced. He was way too young for this kind of labor.

He sighed again and glanced up at the chronometer on the wall. Just five more minutes and he could return to the small apartment he shared with his Master and relax for the rest of the day. The speculation made him smile. His back ached in places he didn't think was possible and his fingers were stiff from being in the same position for such a long period of time. Nothing would please him more than to just plop down in the big, cushiony sofa and munch on a snack cake or two.

He focused his attention back onto the dirty floor below him and scrubbed furiously at it with the small toothbrush Master Yoda had given him. Not much progress was being made with the little tool, but he supposed he deserved it after the unnecessary prank he played on Mace Windu.

He stifled a laugh that threatened to erupt when he thought of the dark skinned Jedi. The joke had been uncalled for, but it was still humorous. He wouldn't have done it if the boy from his saber class hadn't bribed him with a pouch of Republic credits. He had always been easy to convince when it came to pranks.

It _had _been funny; the Council should have at least granted him that, but they didn't. If there was one thing Mace Windu could have possibly learned from his ridiculous prank, it was to always look at your chair before sitting down. Two weeks of scrubbing the Temple floor with a toothbrush seemed to be the only suitable punishment the Council could think of, that and a month of extra meditation. Anakin had vowed to never again play a prank on anyone – unless someone else came along with a pouch of money in their hand.

The chronometer signaled that he was able to quit for the day. He slowly got to his feet and shoved the grimy toothbrush into his pocket. After stretching his back and legs, he began to walk in the direction of the housing level. It didn't take him very long to get there since it was only two floors down. He entered the living quarters he shared with Qui-Gon and kicked off his boots at the entryway.

"Hello, Master." Anakin greeted as he shrugged off his robe and draped it over his arm.

"Padawan," Qui-Gon acknowledged with a nod. "Did you have a good day?"

Anakin stared at him. "Master, you know how much I hate this."

Qui-Gon chuckled. "Perhaps you should have thought of that _before_ placing that whoopee cushion on Mace's chair."

"It was a wookie cushion, Master." Anakin corrected. "The blast is ten times louder than a normal whoopee cushion."

"It doesn't matter what kind of cushion it was. My point is you need to be more mindful of the consequences of your actions, Padawan." Qui-Gon pointed out, but was smiling nonetheless. "Besides, the first day is always the hardest. You've only got thirteen more to go."

Anakin paled slightly and released his frustration into the Force. He had thought being a Jedi would be much cooler than this. Not once had he expected a grumpy council and a small green troll who took pleasure in whacking you in the shin every time you said something wrong. But he knew from experience that every good thing in life had some sort of downside to it.

He dismissed himself curtly and scampered off to his room. He shuffled over to the small closet where he normally hung his robe and other garments. He frowned when he saw that Qui-Gon had forgotten to leave a coat hanger within his reach. Usually the Jedi Master would leave one or two hanging on the doorknob of the small storage space since he couldn't reach the bar at the top. For some reason, Qui-Gon had forgotten to do that this time.

Anakin stood there for a moment trying to decide how to go about the situation. The coat hangers were far beyond his reach and his cloak needed to be put away. He looked around the room and spotted a chair sitting by his desk. He quickly dragged it over to the closet and climbed on top of it. Reaching forward, he grabbed the copper coat hanger and slid his brown robe onto to the wired frame and hung it on the metal bar.

He grinned at his success and was about to hop down when something caught his eye. High up in the top shelf of the closet, something grey protruded from the far corner. He stood on his tip toes to get a better look and nearly toppled over when he saw what it was.

Buzzing with excitement, he pulled it down from the shelf. He was even more astounded by it once it was in full view. It was a model of a BARC speeder. He had never been able to get his hands on one until now. As a kid he had always wanted to put one together himself but never got the chance to do so. He turned the craft over in his hand and gazed at it in wonder.

With another grin, Anakin held the model protectively against his chest and scurried off to find Qui-Gon. The elder Jedi was in the kitchen brewing a hot cup of tea. Anakin approached him and tugged on his robe impatiently.

Qui-Gon turned around and Anakin practically shoved the speeder into his face.

"I found this in my closet!" Anakin cried out happily. "Where do you think it came from?"

Qui-Gon furrowed his brow and studied the model speeder carefully. Anakin watched, his excitement slowly dimming when he saw a brief flicker of pain flash over his Master's eyes. He swallowed and waited for Qui-Gon to say something.

Qui-Gon smiled sadly and ran his thumb over the exterior of the model. Anakin frowned but remained silent. He'd wait for his answer all night if he had to.

"Well?" He prodded after a long period of stretched silence.

Qui-Gon still didn't answer right away. Instead he continued to stroke the metal craft with his thumb and forefinger; Anakin quirked an eyebrow.

"Obi-Wan made this." Qui-Gon finally answered.

Anakin's eyes grew wide. He had forgotten that his room had once belonged to Obi-Wan.

"Did he leave it here on purpose?" Anakin asked carefully, still detecting a hint of sadness radiating from his Master.

"I don't know." Qui-Gon continued to stare at the model.

Anakin chewed on his bottom lip. "Do you think he wants it back?"

"I doubt it. He quit building these things once he turned eighteen."

Anakin thought for a moment. "Would he let me keep it, do you think?"

Qui-Gon smiled. "I'm sure he won't mind."

Anakin grinned and hugged the speeder close to his body, as if someone was suddenly going to take it away. He gave Qui-Gon a peculiar look.

"Do you think he's doing okay on his mission? I mean, it's been a whole year."

Qui-Gon took his time before answering. "Yes, I'm sure he's doing very well."

--

Obi-Wan glared at the man standing before him. Setzer Vosa was quite possibly the most stubborn man he'd ever laid eyes on. He rarely gave a satisfying answer to a simple question and his logic made no sense at all. He was one complicated man, Obi-Wan was sure of that. He'd been trying to negotiate with him for over a year, as well as Setzer's fellow businessmen, but he was getting nowhere.

Obi-Wan retained his professional posture. "Your people are killing each other without reason." He said evenly, hoping the man before him would understand. "If it does not end, the entire population will be wiped out.

Setzer chuckled softly and stood in front of a large window. "I'm well aware of the situation, Master Jedi, but there is nothing I can do to stop it."

"So you're just going to stand by and watch?"

"I'm afraid there's not much else I can do." Setzer turned to face him. "It is only a matter of time before my people's lust for blood makes its way to the government buildings. I, along with everyone else who holds power on this planet, will be killed slowly and painfully."

"You've been in control of this planet for over a decade. There must be something you can do."

Setzer chuckled again. "Come here, Master Jedi. Take a look at the outside world."

Obi-Wan hesitated briefly before crossing the room to stand next to Setzer in front of the window.

"Ignore the bile in the back of your throat and look at them closely."

Obi-Wan obeyed and watched the creatures outside carefully. Hundreds upon hundreds of men, women, and children ran in different directions, attacking anyone in their path. A small child leapt forward and tackled a grown man to the ground. The child then began to claw at the older being furiously, ripping off chunks of flesh as he did so. The man under attack snarled and bit down into the child's arm. Obi-Wan cringed when another man came up behind the two and swiped at the little boy. The boy fell to the ground and almost immediately the two older men began to feed off the child's flesh.

"They hate each other." Setzer began. "Yet they work together to get what they want. Once they are finished devouring the boy, they will mercilessly attack each other."

Obi-Wan averted his gaze from the feasting men and the defenseless child. It sickened him to see such behavior.

"Do you know what made them this way?" Obi-Wan asked softly. Part of him didn't want to know the answer.

Setzer shrugged. "I suspect it has something to do with the chemicals we added to the air processors. It was supposed to calm everyone down, weed out aggression. I'm afraid it had the opposite effect, however."

Obi-Wan took an audacious chance and looked back out the window. Everywhere he looked there was some form of abuse taking place. Whether it was murder or torture, it didn't really matter. These people, in Obi-Wan's opinion, were sickening. With lack of a better word, they reminded him of the living dead in the holovids he had watched in his teenage years. They even looked a little bit like them, although he had come to the conclusion that the living dead on the holovids were more appealing to look at.

"This must end." Obi-Wan said after a minute.

Setzer turned to him calmly. "But it won't. I know you want to help, Master Jedi, but your attempts are futile. I think it would be best if you returned to your home."

Obi-Wan felt a queasy feeling settle in his stomach when he saw a woman behead a child out of the corner of his eye. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. The action did not go unnoticed.

"Repulsive, isn't it?" Setzer inquired. Obi-Wan nodded. "That is the very reason I want you to leave as soon as possible, otherwise your fate will be the same as theirs." He gestured to the hundreds of mangled bodies lying about the ground in heaps.

"Leaving this planet the way it is would haunt me for the rest of my days." Obi-Wan responded with a shake of his head. "I have to at least try."

"You fail to realize that the situation is invariable."

"Have you considered fighting fire with fire?"

Setzer gave him a sharp look. "I would never do that. They may be vicious and absurd but they're still living creatures."

"They are doing more harm than good." Obi-Wan countered.

"Which is why I advise you to leave immediately." Setzer looked at him defiantly.

"I will not leave until I am absolutely certain there is no hope left for this planet."

"I admire your boldness, Master Jedi, but it will not help you here. If you refuse to leave, then the most I can offer is a small room in the back you can use as shelter."

"Thank you." Obi-Wan nodded; grateful he had won the small argument.

"I suppose you would like to speak with your people." Setzer eyed him cautiously.

"Yes, I should like to inform them that my stay will be extended."

Setzer led him to the far corner of the room and pointed to a small device Obi-Wan was not at all familiar with.

"This is the only form of communication we have left. It's quite old, but it serves for good use. Just key in the desired planet's area code and hold down the grey button. There should be enough power left for one last call, so make it count."

Obi-Wan nodded and Setzer left his side to allow him some privacy. He did as Setzer had instructed and before too long, Master Yoda and Mace Windu appeared before him in holographic form.

"Knight Kenobi." Mace greeted formally.

"Masters." Obi-Wan bowed slightly and tucked his arms into the sleeves of his robe.

"How is the mission fairing?" Mace questioned without hesitation.

Obi-Wan waited for a minute when the connection seemed to flicker. He then relayed all of the information he had gathered from his mission so far before the two Council members, including Setzer's disobedience in ending the massacre of Morte's citizens. When he finished, the two holographic Jedi were lost in contemplation.

"Have the natives shown any hostile actions against you?" Mace inquired finally.

"No, Master. I received a few minor scratches from crossing the terrain to enter the government building but after that my presence has gone unnoticed."

"I fear that is only temporary." Mace said. "You must be careful, Obi-Wan. The circumstance seems to be more than what we first thought."

"Yes, Master."

Yoda let out a sigh and shifted his position to the other side of Mace's body. "Disturbing, this is. Very careful, you must be."

"And do not underestimate the inhabitants." Mace warned. "They seem to be aggressive towards anything that moves."

"Yes, Master. I'm sorry to say that this will be my last report. The communication system's have been destroyed save for this one, which has very little power left."

Mace nodded. "Good luck, Obi-Wan, and may the Force be with you."

"And with you, Masters." Obi-Wan bowed courteously and waited for the two holographic Jedi to disappear.

Setzer was looking at him when he turned around.

"I'm going to offer you transportation one more time. If you choose not to take it, fine, but I seriously suggest you get far away from here."

"I'm not leaving." Obi-Wan gave the man a steady look.

"You Jedi are dependent on the Force. I pray it will save you." Setzer said with a grave tone. "Your room is down the hall and to your right."

Obi-Wan gave a respectful bow and turned to leave the conference room. Setzer's demanding voice made him stop in the doorway.

"They will kill you, Kenobi. Do not doubt that for a second."

Obi-Wan ignored him and continued walking to his newly assigned room.

* * *

_To be continued._

* * *

**A/N: **Short, rushed, poorly written, and to the point. But it gives you a little insight on what poor Obi's up against. Also, the whole "adding chemicals to the air to calm everyone down" is taken from the movie Serenity.

Don't forget to review. I need to know if this is worth continuing at all. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Once again, thanks so much for the reviews. I love all of you to death. :) I don't like this chapter, but hopefully it'll keep you guys occupied until I get the next one finished.

**WARNING: **The end of this chapter is a little graphic.

* * *

Chapter 3.

* * *

Obi-Wan felt a surge of anger flow through him as he listened to the perpetual screams that echoed just outside his bedroom window. He quickly released the inapt emotion into the Force and made another effort to block out the constant uproar that seemed to follow him wherever he went. He felt completely useless listening to the indefinite shrieks of the inhabitants being mercilessly killed without any hope of survival.

It was barbaric. The thought of children murdering adults and adults murdering children was unbearable. It took every ounce of his willpower to remain where he was and not go rushing off into the night with nothing but a short tempered mind and frazzled limbs.

A loud, yet familiar cry made him bury his head underneath his pillow. He shut his eyes tightly and waited for the piercing scream to end. When it finally ceased, another took its place, but this time it was lower and more imminent.

Throwing the pillow to the floor, Obi-Wan sat cross legged on his bed and buried his head in his hands. He let out a shuddery breath and tenderly reached out to the Force. It was there, but it was slow to answer. When it finally reached him, it provided little comfort to his troubled mind. It wrapped around him like a protective blanket, but the vibrant beam of light it usually radiated was dull and shadowy.

With an aggravated sigh, Obi-Wan leaned his back against the wall and played with the hem of his tunic. He was exhausted both physically and mentally, but sleep avoided him like the plague. No matter how many ceiling tiles he counted or how many sleep suggestions he used, the rest he so desperately needed would not come.

He ignored the next batch of agonized screams and stared aimlessly at the floor, wondering how Setzer, or any unaffected being for that matter, was able to sleep in such conditions. The knowledge of deranged and unnecessary murder made his blood boil. How could these people commit so much horrific violence and not feel one ounce of sympathy?

'_Maybe they do,'_ a small voice in the back of his mind piped up, causing Obi-Wan to furrow his brow in confusion.

Was it possible that they actually felt remorse? Were they at all aware of the inhuman acts they were exerting? Did they feel emotion at all?

The next thing Obi-Wan heard quickly abolished the idea.

A loud blast sent out a fierce vibration that shook the entire building. Obi-Wan was thrown off his bed and landed painfully on his hands and knees. He shakily got to his feet and snatched his lightsaber from the nightstand. Tuning into his surroundings, he concentrated and was well aware that severe damage had been done to the very back of the building.

Footsteps rushed past his closed door and he felt a wave of mixed emotions flow around the building indiscriminately. A laggard nudge from the Force implied that something was very, very wrong. His throat constricted painfully as he inched his way to the door, slowly opening it and peeking out into the hallway.

It was empty.

Carefully, he took a step out into the deserted corridor. The building vibrated forcefully as another deafening explosion sent him crashing to his knees. Smoke billowed out from behind the corner a few feet in front of him. Obi-Wan rose to his feet quickly as a menacing growl articulated in the air.

He ignited his lightsaber, knowing exactly what had created the profound noise. The blue blade of his saber shimmered against the white interior of the hallway, casting a faint glow that illuminated his face as he held it at the ready.

It was nearly impossible to see through the blackened smoke that was slowly filling the hallway. He sensibly gathered what he could of the Force and used it to enhance his vision to the extent where he could see clearly through the thick haze.

There was the undeniable sound of footsteps. Obi-Wan situated himself in the defensive stance and waited. Through the hazy murk, he was barely able to see a crouched figure about two feet in front of him, observing him gradually and trying not to be seen. Large, yellow eyes stared at him, bright and clearly visible among the smoke. Obi-Wan stared back, afraid to take his eyes off the huddled shape.

He blinked once, and it was gone. Dread filling every inch of his body, he swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to find the mysterious figure that had been at arms length just a second ago.

There was nothing.

He took a step forward, lowering his lightsaber slightly. He was beyond confused at how it had disappeared so quickly, but the fact that it did made a sense of panic wash over him. He had no idea where it had gone.

The Force screamed out a warning, but he was too late to react. Something landed on him from above and he tumbled to the floor awkwardly. He found himself lying flat on his back with a disfigured, psychotic woman clawing furiously at his chest. Momentarily stunned from the unexpected assault, he lay there briefly before slamming his fist into the woman's face. She shrieked and stumbled backwards, giving Obi-Wan enough to time to scramble away and jump to his feet before the next attack came. The woman retreated about five steps then ran at him full speed on all fours. Snarling, she propelled herself forwards and knocked Obi-Wan off his feet once again. She moved so quickly he was unable to avoid her monstrous attack. She bit down on his forearm – hard. Obi-Wan suppressed a scream and brought his fist back into connection with her face.

It barely had any affect.

The grip she had on his arm with her teeth was diabolical. It hurt ten times worse than any bullet graze or lightsaber burn he'd ever received. Her teeth were inhumanly sharp and had already sunken a good inch or two into his skin.

Blood seeped out from between her lips as she bit down harder; his blood.

Stifling a groan, Obi-Wan turned his head and was relieved to see the silver hilt of his lightsaber. Using his free hand, he called the Force around him. It took longer than usual due to its insignificant absence, but the saber flew right into his hand after a moment.

Igniting the cherished weapon and relishing in the low hum it released, he twirled the blade in his hand and quickly beheaded the woman. Her grip on his arm immediately relaxed and her head rolled noiselessly to the side, her body crumpling into a pathetic heap at his feet. After extinguishing his saber, he used the wall to cautiously haul himself to his feet, not once taking his eyes off the bodiless head.

He rolled up his sleeve and glanced at his arm; he winced. There was a large bite mark right below his elbow, already it was turning purple around the small puncture wounds. He gingerly touched it with his index finger and pulled away sharply as a streak of pain shot up his entire arm.

He held his lightsaber tightly, and with one last glance at the dismembered woman, he turned away and began walking down the smoke-filled hallway. His senses were amplified tenfold after the gruel fight and he was aware of every small noise.

Rolling his sleeve back down and holding his injured arm protectively against his chest, he froze when he heard the sound of footsteps – many of them. His lightsaber blazed to life and he held it out in front of his body, ready to fight if needed. After a few precarious moments, the footsteps grew closer.

"Son of a - !" A uniformed man came to a screeching halt just inches before Obi-Wan's lightsaber. His eyes were wide with terror. A group of men came to an abrupt stop right behind him. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow curiously, letting his guard down only some.

"Kenobi?" A very familiar voice sounded from the back of the group.

Obi-Wan lowered his lightsaber then, as an all too familiar man pushed himself to the front of the group. He found himself staring at Setzer Vosa with a relieved expression.

"I thought you were one of them." Obi-Wan explained briefly, taking a look at the guards standing behind the planet leader.

"That's understandable," Setzer looked around, "can't see a damn thing in this smoke."

"What's happened?" Obi-Wan asked, ignoring the uneasiness he sensed in the man before him.

Setzer scoffed. "Are you that dense? What do you _think_ has happened?"

Obi-Wan frowned at the comment. "I'm assuming they've gotten in…"

Setzer smirked. "Maybe you're not so dense, only lacking in comprehension."

Obi-Wan frowned again, but his dismal response at the remark was cut short as another blast rocked the building. Setzer grabbed onto the wall to steady himself and looked around in irritation.

More smoke floated throughout the hallway, choking out a cough or two from the uniformed guards. There was a loud crash, followed by several torturous screams. Setzer closed his eyes briefly at the sound and then looked at Obi-Wan.

"We're going to hold them off in the main hall, care to join us?"

Obi-Wan frowned. "I thought you weren't going to harm them." He reminded vividly.

Setzer shrugged. "I wasn't, but that was before they wiped out the entire administration." He gestured towards the guards behind him. "We're the only ones left."

Obi-Wan fought to keep his expression in the area of tranquility. One Jedi Knight, fifteen guards lacking in confidence, and a measly chieftain who'd barely fought a day in his life were no match for the mindless, homicidal psychopaths they were about to face.

Letting out a miserable sigh, Obi-Wan nodded. "I'll help in any way I can."

Setzer seemed thoroughly pleased with this fact, as did the apprehensive guards breathing down his neck. For some reason, the knowledge of having a Jedi fight with them eased their worried troubles and gave them faith.

Obi-Wan trailed after Setzer, lost in his thoughts and gripping his lightsaber tightly enough to make his knuckles turn white. He began to feel an indecorous yearn for a Padawan – or a Master - to aid him on this mission. He cringed at the latter. He'd been down that path before, and all it did was cause him pain in the end.

A low, ominous roar broke him out of his short reverie. It sounded close, a little _too_ close. Picking up speed, he trotted beside the now-running Setzer.

"How much further?" He asked breathlessly.

"Right up ahead." Setzer replied. "Through those double doors; we'll barricade ourselves in and wait for them there."

Another resounding bellow echoed around them.

They burst through the double doors awkwardly, locking them once everyone was inside. Six men began to drag various items of furniture to barricade the entrance while the others formed into strategic positions. Setzer motioned for Obi-Wan to stand at his side in front of a large chrome desk.

"Just to warn you, Kenobi, these people never did approve of the Jedi, and they seem to have retained their human intelligence prior to the contamination. I'm not sure how they'll react to your presence."

Obi-Wan recalled his fight with the woman earlier. The way she'd glared at him through the smoke had seemed peculiar at the time. Now it made sense; she despised the Jedi for reasons he was not sure of, and he had no doubt the others felt the same way.

"The most reasonable way to best them is by removing the head, which I'm sure you already know, considering your little squall with that woman."

"How did you know about that?" Obi-Wan asked, staring at him incredulously.

He shrugged. "You've got a decent sized cut on your cheek. I'm taking a wild guess you didn't get it while shaving. Plus, your arm is bleeding like there's no tomorrow."

Obi-Wan touched a finger to his cheek and, sure enough, it was bleeding, as was his arm which had begun to throb painfully at the mention of it. He ignored it when the six guards finished creating the blockade and situated themselves into fortified positions.

Everything went quiet.

The heat generator abruptly shut itself off while the bustling of moving furniture ceased. No one spoke, their ears were in tune for the slightest sign of movement and their eyes were focused steadily on the barricaded door.

The silence gave Obi-Wan the opportunity to observe the room, something he normally did before a battle. It was his way of taking in his surroundings and deciding upon which objects and pieces of furniture he would be able to use as an advantage.

The room was exceedingly white; the walls, the ceiling, the floor, the upholstery. Eight large, towering pillars completed the lavish aspect – four on opposite sides of the room adjacent to the door. Everything looked polished and well attended to. Nothing seemed out of place and the dark blue attire befitting the guards stood out against the lucent hue; much different from his own cream-colored Jedi apparel.

An abrupt banging noise brought him back to reality. He glanced at the entryway, his heart sinking when he saw the furniture piled in front of it start to shake. The banging continued, and it grew louder and more powerful as the minutes slowly passed.

"They're on the other side." Setzer called out to everyone. "Get ready."

Obi-Wan eyed the guards carefully, absorbing their every emotion and taking note of the way their hands shook as they held their blasters in front of their bodies. They were terrified, but they had a right to be.

The doors rattled against the blockade. An excited growl echoed around the room, sending a chill down each of their spines. The pounding intensified.

"Steady!" Setzer ordered, seeing the guards retreat slightly. "Hold your ground!"

Obi-Wan flinched as the door creaked under the pressure of the pounding. There were a few more displeased shrieks before the unthinkable happened.

A loud blast, much like the ones before, threw everyone off balance and onto the floor. Smoke filled the room at a remarkable speed and happy, victorious growls were heard.

Obi-Wan dragged himself to his feet and ignited his lightsaber just in time to deliver the killing blow to a charging female creature. Her head rolled to the floor and her body fell to the ground in a bloody heap. Two males lunged towards him at the same time. With one swing of the saber, they fell to the ground lifelessly.

Obi-Wan allowed his muscles to settle into the offensive position. Body after body fell at the hand of his blade. He didn't hesitate once, knowing exactly what the cost would be if he were to let his guard down. Another male advanced towards him at a slow speed, planning out his moves carefully. Then, with a deafening roar, he charged towards the Jedi with inhuman velocity. At the last minute, Obi-Wan brought his saber in a downward arch only to have the male leap to the right and bestow a painful swipe to his chest.

Retreating a few steps, Obi-Wan realized he had underestimated their intelligence. They were fast, tricky and agile – something he had little experience in fighting against. The male faked to the left, then to the right, back to the left, the left again, to the right, the left, over to the right…

Obi-Wan started to get confused. He watched the male attentively, not quite sure what the creature was planning. While he concentrated on the male's perplexing maneuvers, a female child latched onto his back and hung on for dear life.

Obi-Wan lost his focus on the male in order to dispose of the child, and the male took his chance and tackled the Jedi from the front. Obi-Wan landed on his side, the child holding a death grip on his back and the male sinking his teeth into the flesh of the Jedi's shoulder. Fighting back a scream, Obi-Wan kneed the male in the stomach and used what he could grasp of the Force to push him away. The male only slid about ten feet away and was on his feet before Obi-Wan had time to react.

Suddenly, the male flew backwards as a blaster bolt tore through his head. The child unexpectedly went limp and rolled off his back. Obi-Wan looked up and saw Setzer across the room, blaster in hand and looking at him worriedly.

Obi-Wan nodded his thanks and leapt to his feet before a female could swipe at him. He beheaded her and moved on, using the even more distant Force to predict their moves. He didn't even stop to think how many lives he was putting to an end, or how many children he was executing. Despite the grudge he held for his former Master, he used his teachings and concentrated on the here and now.

An earsplitting scream brought Obi-Wan to an abrupt stop. He whirled around and saw who had emanated the bone chilling cry. It was one of the younger guards. Three creatures currently feasted on his stomach, tearing out his entrails and devouring them.

Obi-Wan suddenly felt light headed. His body froze, lightsaber falling limply to his side and his eyes growing wide with horrific realization. He stared at the ongoing battle with his jaw slightly dropped. Little girls were slaughtered without pause, and male creatures were attacking the guards then killing them in the cruelest of ways while the women angrily fought for the lives of their children. No matter how many ferocious acts of murder they had done, or how many lives they took – they were still people. Deranged psychopaths, but still people. They had lives, no matter how corrupted they seemed to be, and they had a future even if it resulted in the entire population being murdered by their own.

When a female sped towards him, he was slow to respond. He brought his blade up just in time to neatly dismember her head. He watched as it hit the floor with a thud and her body fall inactively next to it.

Setzer saved him again by shooting two approaching males from behind. Obi-Wan was too numb to offer any thanks.

Everything went quiet, but the battle still raged on. He was oblivious to the screams, snarls, cries, and begs for mercy. He heard nothing, but saw everything. He cut down several more creatures to avoid getting his head ripped off.

The majority of the guards were dead, only a few remained. Setzer was behind a pillar holding off on his own.

A child's head sailed across the room as one of the creatures missed a guard and hit its own. Obi-Wan swallowed.

A lot of the creatures began turning on each other once they realized they all wanted to feast on the same guard. They fought viciously, tearing off flesh and forging large gashes in the skin.

The wind was knocked out of him as a heavily built male tackled him. Landing on his back, Obi-Wan could do nothing when two males grabbed his legs and two females grabbed his arms. Together, they lifted him off the ground and snarled hungrily. He squirmed with wide, fearful eyes as he tried to loosen their iron grip on his wrists and ankles. Another creature appeared, staring eagerly at his stomach. Obi-Wan's eyes widened and he squirmed even more.

The four creatures holding him were blown backwards and he fell to the floor painfully. The one who had planned on tearing him apart was also killed.

Much to his dismay, Obi-Wan found himself shaking with fear. Tears brimmed his eyes unwillingly. He curled into himself but was hauled to his feet by two strong hands.

Someone was shaking his shoulders. He was vaguely aware of someone calling his name. He blinked. It was Setzer, and suddenly his hearing came back.

"Kenobi!" Setzer was looking at him frantically. He relaxed when Obi-Wan's gaze focused on him. "Can you hear me?" Obi-Wan nodded. Setzer breathed a sigh of relief. "You gave me a fright, there. I thought I'd lost you."

Setzer clapped him on the shoulder and offered a weak smile. He frowned when he noticed the shivers wracking the Jedi's body. "Damn, you're shaking like a leaf! Are – "

Setzer was abruptly cut off. His eyes went wide with shock. Without warning, he crumpled to the ground. A creature stood behind him.

Obi-Wan let out a strangled sob and his lightsaber clattered to the floor as he stumbled backwards. The guards were dead, and so was Setzer.

He was the only one left.

The creatures advanced on him all at once. They glowered at him greedily and let out flagrant snarls.

Obi-Wan tripped over a body and fell to the floor. He didn't think he could have gotten up even if he tried, his legs felt much too rubbery and weak to move. Instead, he shuffled his body backwards into a corner. He tried to move back further, his mind not fully processing the fact that he was trapped, but his boots only slid across the ground uselessly. The creatures moved in closer, surrounding him and cutting off any chance of escape. The tears came again and with it, a fear he had never felt before. He pressed his back against the wall and waited.

Nothing in his Jedi training had prepared him for what happened next.

They all attacked at once. Biting, scratching, growling, snarling, shrieking, and howling. They had one last, unaffected human left – and they were going to enjoy it.

The last thing Obi-Wan knew of was pain, before he finally sank into oblivion.

* * *

_To be continued._

* * *

**A/N:** -hides-

Review or you'll never get an update. :P


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Sorry for the wait. This chapter was a pain in the buttocks. It feels really weird to me, but I hope you like it.

* * *

Chapter 4.

* * *

Two days later.

* * *

_Obi-Wan was in pain._

_The young man sat shivering in the corner of a dark, dingy cell, holding on to what little bit of hope he had left. His eyes were closed, and a large, deep gash extended from his bottom lip all the way up to his cheekbone. His breathing was labored, each breath painful and ragged._

_A smaller figure sat huddled next to him, also shivering. Nothing could be seen of this figure, other than it was very little and posed no threat towards the Knight. _

_One of the pipes extended across the ceiling clattered to the ground with a bang, and a dark shape descended from an opening just above where the pipe had been. Then, as if the action were nothing, it began crawling _across_ the ceiling and straight for Obi-Wan. _

_Without any warning at all, it attacked both Obi-Wan and his small companion. A scream tore from the little one's throat…_

"Obi-Wan!"

Qui-Gon's voice reverberated throughout the vacant room, chest heaving and sweat plastering his face as he sat upright in his bed. His broad frame quivered from the recollection of the nightmare where small fragments of the horrid vision clung to the very edges of his mind. Stringy strands of loose, tousled hair hung down in his face and he quickly brushed them away with his hand. Wide, apprehensive eyes searched the room frantically, landing on anything that significantly assured him that he was indeed back in reality, instead of that awful nightmare.

Once he was positive it had only been a dream, he fell back soundlessly on his bed, letting out a gush of air as he did so. His erratic heartbeat turned steady after a few minutes of deep breathing and an intense struggle to calm his fraying nerves. After the majority of his well-being had taken on a façade of tranquility, he slowly propped himself on his elbows and glanced at the chronometer.

The eighth hour.

He sighed in frustration. The continual nightmares had yet to fail in waking him after twelve. It was only the second day of insomnia, yet he'd already gone through several nightmares. Some portrayed a supreme evil he couldn't quite grasp long enough to decipher while others were as clear as daylight and left him with an unfocused conscious for the rest of the day.

Groaning audibly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and forced himself into a standing position despite the sudden wave of nausea that swept through him. He groped around in the darkness for his cloak and shoved his arms through the sleeves once he'd found it. After fixing his hair so that it was at least somewhat proficient, he sauntered into the kitchen groggily and proceeded to brew some tea.

He pulled a navy blue mug from the shelf and sat it on the table before filling a kettle with water then putting it on the stove. He leaned against the counter while he waited for the water to boil and yawned past the morning taste in his mouth.

'_Another fruitless day,'_ he thought drearily. _'I'm beginning to think these nightmares are more than they appear to be. When was the last time I received a decent night of rest?'_

With a slight shake of his head and a few more degrading thoughts, he turned the stove off once the water was finished boiling and poured it into the mug. He emptied the contents of the tea bag into the cup and stirred lightly before taking a small sip. He cringed inwardly as the steaming liquid scalded the back of his throat. Instead of finishing his drink, or stirring it as he usually would in order to cool it off, he set the mug aside and folded his arms across his chest.

The nightmare suddenly came back to him, and he desperately tried to shove the memory into forgetfulness.

It didn't work.

He saw Obi-Wan, sitting there in that dark cell with little to no optimism, and that mysterious petite figure huddled at his side. The angry marks covering the Knight's face, and the way his head rested against the wall in a limp fashion. The petrified scream of the smaller form as the large, undetected shape lunged forward…

A shudder trickled down his spine. No matter how hard he tried, the haunting image of his ex-Padawan refused to disappear, and with that divination, the last conversation that had transpired between himself and the younger Jedi struck him harder than any blow to the stomach.

"_Your envious attitude towards Anakin is unacceptable, and I'm afraid I've had enough of it."_

"_Jealousy? You think this is about _jealousy_??"_

"_I hardly see any other explanation for your behavior."_

Qui-Gon pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. The knowledge of what he'd said to the Knight just before his very first mission had tormented him each and every day for the past year. He longed for the moment in time where he would be able to make amends with his former student. He'd figured the mission to Morte would only take a couple of weeks, give or take a few days. Yet here he was, one year later, reprimanding himself for something Obi-Wan would probably forgive him for.

Or, at least, he hoped Obi-Wan would forgive him.

He knew he was a fool to have even said those things. Obi-Wan didn't deserve any of that, and he spent the majority of his days thinking about the young Jedi. The pain that had filtered through those stormy gray eyes made him weak in the knees. At the time, he'd seen how much he was hurting the young man and how seriously he took each admonishment, yet he'd continued, ranting and raving about how foolish he was about accusing Anakin of turning to the Dark Side.

It was ridiculous. Anakin would never turn, he was sure of that. The boy was much too innocent and gentle to do such a thing. It infuriated him when Obi-Wan had denounced the boy, babbling about his so called "visions".

"_Mind your feelings, Obi-Wan. Act on instinct, no matter how dire the situation may be."_

Another groan escaped his lips as the age-old phrase entered his train of thought. Time and time again he had forced that simple proverb into the younger Jedi's mind. Yet when Obi-Wan had finally put the lesson to good use, Qui-Gon had lashed out verbally and uselessly

For a second time, his thoughts drifted back to the nightmare. He'd taken into consideration that it could have been a vision instead, but there had been several times in previous years where similar dreams had only been a figment of his exhausted mind, nothing at all to worry about. Yet, there had also been a handful of moments where they had, indeed, been a prophecy of the future.

Coming to a conclusion, he emptied his mug of tea into the sink, scribbled a quick not to Anakin and then taped it to the front door for the young Padawan to see when he woke up. After changing into his normal Jedi attire, he left the apartment in a flash, locked it, and swiftly made his way to the Council chambers.

He hesitated when he came to the entrance, wondering briefly if the Council would even listen to him. If they didn't, then there was nothing he could do to assist Obi-Wan…if he needed assisting, that is; unless, of course, he disobeyed their instructions once more and took action without their consent. He grinned mischievously before palming the doors open.

The entire Council stared at him in surprise. His arrival had been both unannounced and abrupt, but he didn't care.

"The Council is in session, Qui-Gon." Mace gave him a stern look.

Qui-Gon returned it. "I have an urgent matter I wish to speak to you about."

"As I said, the Council is in – "

A loud _thwack _sounded and Mace Windu gave a start and nearly fell out of his chair in surprise.

"Humph! Urgent, he says! Listen, you will!" Yoda's gimer stick hovered threateningly above Mace's right arm.

Mace looked at the rest of the Council and back to Yoda before sinking back into his chair favorably.

Yoda gave Qui-Gon a knowing look.

'_He knows what I'm here for.' _Qui-Gon realized with a smile._ 'Damn troll. I could actually hug him.'_

He shook his head to rid himself of the thought and shifted his stance slightly. "I was merely wondering if you'd heard anything from Obi-Wan."

Mace closed his eyes briefly then reopened them, sending a steady glare in Qui-Gon's direction. "If that is all you need to know, you could have waited until we were ready for you."

"Under normal circumstances, I would." Qui-Gon answered. "For the past several nights I've experienced a series of nightmares involving Obi-Wan, and I only wish to know of his progress."

Mace straightened his posture attentively. "We last spoke with him two days ago. The mission is more treacherous than we initially thought it to be, but he seemed to have things under control."

Qui-Gon frowned. He had a peculiar feeling that something was amiss. Either that or the Council was keeping something from him…

Ki-Adi-Mundi spoke up. "Tell us about your dream."

Qui-Gon took a moment to gather his thoughts. Then, in a rush of concerted specifications, he hastily narrated the happenings of his nightmares. He chose his words prudently, being extra careful not to leave out any minor details that might prove to be consequential. The Council listened with open ears the entire time, which was moderately surprising. He had become a routine for at least one Council member to interrupt him at one point.

When he finished, the room grew uneasily silent, and Yoda seemed to be in deep contemplation.

"There is no proof that these dreams will become reality." Mace said after a while. "As far as we know, Obi-Wan is doing well on his mission. We have no way of contacting him."

"Are you able to at least send someone to support him?" Qui-Gon asked, somewhat disappointed that the Council would take no action when there was a great chance his previous Padawan might have been harmed.

"Intruding on his very first mission?" Mace shook his head. "You, Qui-Gon, of all people, should know how that would make Obi-Wan feel."

Qui-Gon nodded slightly. Something like that would definitely make Obi-Wan feel like he wasn't trusted enough to take care of things on his own, but what else was there to do?

There was a long period of silence where Yoda remained in deep thought, Qui-Gon felt his nerves wracking with impatience, and the rest of the Council weighed their possibilities. Finally, Qui-Gon spoke up.

"I will go after him."

Yoda suddenly broke out of his concentration, and looked up sharply. "Do that, you cannot. Still being punished, young Skywalker is."

Qui-Gon cursed inwardly. Anakin's punishment for placing a wookie cushion on Mace Windu's chair was still in order. He wouldn't be able to leave the Temple until Anakin had completed his extra chores.

"Could you put his punishment on hiatus?" Qui-Gon asked. "I have a very bad feeling about this." He nearly laughed out loud at his own repetition of Obi-Wan's infamous catch phrase, but quickly shook it off in order to maintain his efficient demeanor.

"You know we can't do that, Qui-Gon." Mace replied. "For your own good, I suggest you take it easy."

Qui-Gon's brain worked to come up with some kind of excuse, but there was nothing. His lingering visitation resulted in a grunt from Yoda, who still seemed to be in deep cerebration.

"Dismissed, you are."

Qui-Gon blinked then bowed courteously before leaving the Council chamber in a flurry of robes and garments.

He wasn't sure what he was feeling at that moment, but it was different. Dread almost, mixed with anger and frustration. Something wasn't right with Obi-Wan's mission but he couldn't quite place what it was.

As he turned the corner to head back to his shared apartment with Anakin, he came to a conclusion. Three days. He would give Obi-Wan three more days, and if he hadn't return by then, Qui-Gon was going after him with or without the Council's permission.

--

A thousand lightsabers pierced his skin upon awakening. His eyes flew open, and he was greeted with white hot pain throbbing against his head. He cringed as much as his battered face would allow then blinked slowly, trying to cope with this newfound darkness in his line of vision. The air was thick and reeked of foul substances he couldn't analyze without the proper connection to the Force, which had become even more distant during his unconscious state of mind. He moved slightly, ignoring the protest of his back, and found himself sitting on a dirt floor and curled back into the corner of a stone-walled room. Making an abrupt decision, he tried to push himself to his feet. His arms gave out immediately and he crumpled back to the floor in an exhausted heap. Gasping for breath, he managed to push himself back into a seated position in the corner. He leaned his head back and made it his solemn duty to at least control his irregular breathing. It was easier said than done.

A light shuffling sound on the side of the room caused his head to jerk upright and his eyes to search frantically among the darkness. He strained his ears, listening for the muffled timbre. There was nothing.

"Is someone there?" Obi-Wan's voice came out as a croak, his throat parched and dry from lack of water.

No answer. He repeated the question, a little more loudly if possible, but the response was the same. He grasped onto what small tendrils of the Force were still in reach and concentrated. There was someone else in the room, he was positive of that, but whether or not this being posed any threat towards him was still a mystery. Whoever it was, they were sound asleep.

Feeling his eyelids grow heavier by the second, he succumbed to a restless slumber once again.

* * *

_To be continued._

* * *

**A/N:** Yeah, not a whole lot of Obi-Wan in this chapter, but at least he's alive. :) You'll see more of him next time.

I'd like to point out that this is about as far as the story gets. There might be about eight chapters, more or less, but the plot hardly exceeds this point. I just want to say that because I don't want you guys to expect something huge to happen.

Also, I'm starting school on Tuesday (gag) so I'm not sure how that will affect my updates. But I'll try not to let it distract me too much.

Review?


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I am _so_ sorry for the long wait. School is sucking up all of my free time.

I hope this chapter makes up for it. It's completely Obi-centric, and you get to see who the mysterious "small figure" is ;)

* * *

Chapter 5.

* * *

Obi-Wan's consciousness faded in and out for the next few hours. It wasn't until his fifth awakening that he was finally able to remain vigilant. His body craved leisure and relaxation, but he neglected the importunate request and forced himself into a regarding aspect of sentience. The room seemed brighter than before. The outline of his body was partially discernable, but not enough to examine his wounds to the extent of figuring out how extreme they were.

He fought off the rapidly approaching drowsiness and made an effort to readjust his position. He knew if he stayed in his current position for too long, he was bound to acquire a stiff neck. His legs seemed to be rejecting his mental plea to cooperate, so he was forced to use his arms to obtain the position he desired. It was more difficult than he originally thought it to be, and it sent a flaring ache throughout his torso. After an agonizing moment or two, he sighed in relief as the tension in his neck from his previous emplacement lessened notably.

Now that his posture was more serviceable than his previous one, his mind slowly overlooked his affliction and focused on the situation at hand. His judgment was obviously impotent to assist him due to his weak and remote grasp on the Force. The absence of the esoteric power had been preventing him from releasing his emotions, thus causing his intuition to falter tremendously. He was full of anger, regret, sadness, and fear. The indecorous sentiments had mingled into one large, domestic mass of pain. It threatened to overcome his stubborn perspective, but his unrelenting attitude finally seemed to agree in supporting him at the appropriate time.

Obi-Wan shook his head as much as the pain in his temples would allow, wondering how exactly he had gotten to this particular point. Originally, his mission had been no longer than the standards given to inexperienced Knights at the Temple. Yet once again, his relentless behavior had bought him the surplus amount of time he needed to complete the mission successfully. Begging the Jedi Council was very unbecoming of a Jedi Knight, new to the unfamiliar title or not, but he had done it anyway. Deep down, he had an unaccountable urge to prove his worth. Failing his very first mission would grant him enough humiliation to last a lifetime, and he refused to let it happen.

Rolling his shoulder backwards to release the habitual ache, he groaned loudly, resulting with a frightened shriek from the other side of the room. He froze, trying to determine whether the noise had been substantial or if it was just his somnolent mind playing tricks. Just as he was about to give in to the prolonged silence, a timid voice rang out.

"Are you a bad man?"

His fatigued mind suddenly burst into awareness. Eyes wide with shock, he searched the room frantically for the source of the vacillating noise. Finally, his attentive gaze landed on a small figure in the corner of the room. With a small, yet remote, probe of the Force, he was able to distinguish the figure more clearly.

It was a little girl. Judging by her innocent complexion and those large, chocolate brown eyes staring at him with irresolute curiosity, he figured she was about four years of age, perhaps even less.

He wasn't sure how to answer her question for a moment. He knew he would never harm the child even if his life depended on it, but how could he assure her of this allegation? If she was in the same cell as he, there was a sure chance that she had seen the same brutality as he had. The same onslaught of fear imbedded on each victim's faces, and the same violent act of bloodshed delivered to fellow comrades. It was probable that she had faced the infected citizens without the guidance and protection of her family. If she was at all aware of the situation she had been placed in, gaining her trust would be difficult, if not impossible.

Clearing his parched throat, he answered, "No. I'm not a bad man."

"Are you a good man?" Her head cocked to the side, eyes regarding him curiously.

"Yes. I am."

"Oh."

Obi-Wan's inevitable drowsiness came back as a lingering silence stretched between the two. He forced his drooping eyelids to remain open as the little girl shifted uncomfortably in the corner.

"What's your name?" She asked softly after a moment of silence.

He blinked slowly, trying to pull his foggy mind back into reality and recall his given birth name.

"Obi-Wan." He said finally. "What's yours?"

She sniffled. "Kayla Vosa."

He gave a start.

'_Vosa…I've heard that name somewhere…' _

His fatigued mind struggled for the answer.

And then it clicked.

_Setzer's daughter._

With eyes as wide as saucers, he stared at the inquisitive child with an open mouth. The dark, curly hair framing her delicate, round face should have been enough to give it away. But apparently, he was more sluggish than he originally perceived. Kayla was the spitting image of her father. Why Setzer hadn't mentioned her – or a _wife_ for the matter – remained an enigma.

"Why are you wearing funny clothes?" Kayla once again shattered the dull silence.

Obi-Wan glanced down at his attire, frowning when he saw it was only his normal Jedi apparel. He looked at Kayla, and realized that his own wardrobe was eminently different from hers. Her slender body was lost among the brown pile of rags that was meant to be classified as clothing. His chest swelled with sympathy. Here she was, in a cold, damp cell, wearing nothing but a thin layer of fabric. And here he was, dressed somewhat comfortably in his standard Jedi uniform, and only feeling a slight chill.

He kept his answer simple. "This is how I normally dress. I'm a Jedi."

Kayla sat up on her knees. "A Jedi?" She paused. "Can I see your shiny sword?"

Obi-Wan smiled at the innocence. _'I suppose she's not as reluctant to trust a stranger as I originally thought her to be.'_

"I'm afraid I don't have it with me." He answered.

She plopped back down onto the dirty floor. "Did you lose it?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Oh. That's okay." She offered him an assuring smile. "I have a doggy, and he ran away once, but my daddy found it for me. He's always good at findin' stuff." Obi-Wan's heart skipped a few beats at the mention of Setzer, but Kayla continued. "So I think you'll find your light-up sword one day."

Obi-Wan smiled wryly. "I'm sure I'll find it soon."

'_I hope so, anyway.'_

Kayla tucked her legs against her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She yawned and swiped her hair out of her eyes with a shake of her head.

Obi-Wan wondered why Setzer had failed in mentioning her. If she had gone missing, surely Setzer would've been smart enough to dispatch a search party. Unless, of course, he'd believed her to be dead…

He glanced at Kayla with a newfound sense of empathy. She was fatherless, and didn't even know it. Without a doubt, the oblivious four year old probably believed her father was going to swoop in and rescue her within time. He shuddered as a large dose of guilt settled on his heart. Setzer had saved him numerous times during that last battle. If only he'd returned the favor…

Kayla curled into herself, staring at the opposite wall blankly. Obi-Wan noticed that her small frame shivered slightly.

"Are you cold, Kayla?"

She jumped a little and stared. Nodding, she answered, "Uh-huh."

Obi-Wan pushed himself into a more upright position. "Come here." He ordered lightly, noticing that, unlike him, she was unharmed.

Kayla was hesitant at first. Then, with a bit of urgency, she began to crawl towards him on her hands and knees. As she drew closer, the Force danced around the muggy air. Obi-Wan reached out and held onto it for dear life. He felt a warmth swell up inside him as Kayla approached, large fragments of the Force buzzing around her essence…

'_Wait…what?'_

Obi-Wan studied the child carefully and, sure enough, the Force was around her, radiating off her pallid features like a beacon of light.

It was obvious that she was Force-sensitive, and when her petite frame plopped down beside his, he felt the unnatural source of power grow steadily, and the air wasn't so thick anymore. He could finally breathe.

He scooted over so that he was sitting right in the corner, extending his arm outwards in an inviting gesture. Kayla saw this, and practically tackled him straight back into oblivion. She pressed herself against his side and fisted his tunic while curling up into a little ball. Obi-Wan wrapped his arm around her body, the heat generating almost immediately between the two.

Kayla sighed softly in contentment. "This is comfy."

Obi-Wan couldn't help but agree. He pulled her shivering form closer to his own body, protecting her from the bitter cold seeping through the cracked walls.

Her trembling ceased after a minute, and he would have thought her to be asleep were it not for the small fingers toying absently with the hem of his tunic. She yawned audibly again, and looked up at him with a tired expression.

"Is my daddy coming for me?"

His heart clenched, and he fought to mask the pained expression.

"I don't know."

Kayla's face fell a little. "Do you have a daddy?"

Qui-Gon's face leapt into his mind, and he answered without hesitation. "Yes. I do."

"Is he coming to get you?"

Obi-Wan blinked slowly. His answer was the same for her previous question and her little face remained slightly downcast.

Nevertheless, Kayla patted his knee with her hand. "I think he'll come for you, and when he does he can take me too, 'cause I don't got nowhere else to go."

Obi-Wan leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, the ghost of a smile tracing his features. He certainly hoped that her childlike intuition was correct. Deep down, however, he doubted that anyone would come to his aid. In his last conversation with the Council, he was perfectly well and untainted by the evils lurking around in the dark.

And that was all they knew of.

They had no knowledge that he was being held in a dark musky cell, or of the many bruises and gashes covering his flesh. They were clueless to his predicament, and would most likely wait at least a week before even attempting to contact him. The thought of rescue was hopeless, and left him with bittersweet memories of his life at the Temple.

He glanced down at Kayla, concentrating on the Force orbiting around her. She was a bit older than the Initiates at the Temple, but maybe, just maybe, the Council would allow her to be trained. And perhaps with a little bit of convincing on his part, he would be the one to train her.

It was a comforting thought.

He slowly drew in what he could of the surrounding Force, and used it to create a impenetrable shelter for himself and Kayla. The chilled air began to slip away, a fuzzy warm light taking its place. For a moment, his pain was ignored, and a shower of indiscernible light draped over him gently. He basked in its freshness.

But a moment only lasts for so long.

A loud, echoing screech jerked him and Kayla both from the persuasion of slumber. The Force shied away abruptly, leaving him with a cold trickle running up and down his spine. Kayla went rigid, and dug her face into his chest, her stiffened body trembling once more. Only this time, it had nothing to do with the cold.

The cell door swung open, and a dozen infected beings rushed inside, yellow eyes darting around the dark room cautiously. Twelve dozen pairs of eyes landed on Obi-Wan and Kayla. One of the creatures let out a grisly snarl.

Then, all at once, they charged.

* * *

_To be continued._

* * *

**A/N:** Oh no, I just cliffhanged you all. Hahaa. Sorry. I make corny jokes - deal with it. :)

I'm not really sure if I like how this turned out, but maybe I'm being too hard on myself.

Review?


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Thanks so much for the reviews. I'm really sorry I didn't post this sooner. This chapter was so hard to write, and I'm barely satisfied with it, but I really wanted to get this out for you guys. It's also kind of short, but hopefully to the point.

I hope you enjoy. Although it's Obi-torture, so I'm not so sure you'll enjoy it at all. Heheheh.

Chapter 6.

Obi-Wan felt his body turn to jell as one of the creatures leapt towards him with rapid grace, latching its sharp nails into the tender flesh of his shoulder. Unconsciously, he readjusted his grip on the squirming child in his lap, holding her protectively against his chest. He elbowed the assaulting creature in the stomach, watching with satisfaction as it stumbled backwards with a low growl.

Another creature hurdled itself in Kayla's direction. A sense of urgency washed over the young Knight, and he quickly pulled her away from the offending creature, kicking it square in the chest with the heel of his boot as he did so. The creature, much like its predecessor, went careening in the opposite direction.

Kayla whimpered and fisted his tunic. He whispered comforting words into her ear, all the while lashing out at the approaching enemy.

Quicker than his reflexes could function, one of the larger males struck him across the face, causing his head to slam into the wall behind him. The room tilted at a peculiar angle, and it took longer than it should have for him to realize that he was lying on his side, and the child who was once in his sheltering embrace was there no longer.

Despite the wave of nausea passing through his system, he sat up quickly, frantic eyes searching the room for his deliberate charge.

After a moment, he spotted Kayla's cowering figure just a few feet away. Her small body wracked with tremors as she fought to keep her distance from the flustered creatures. Her large, brown eyes met Obi-Wan's anguished gaze, and a spark of determination filled the chocolaty depths. She crawled towards him with remarkable speed, evading a creature's hungry grasp more than once.

Obi-Wan made an effort to pull himself to his feet. His attempt was futile as a creature climbed onto his back, pinning him down. The sting of its claws digging into his shoulder blades was hardly bearable, but he ignored his discomfort and reached out for Kayla.

She was only a foot away when, out of nowhere, a creature bit down on his outstretched limb – hard.

His entire arm went numb from the pain, and it suddenly became impossible to move, or even twitch, his fingers. Sheer panic replaced his rational thoughts with a morbid sense of impotence.

He watched helplessly as a female creature seemingly appeared out of thin air and clamped her powerful jaws around Kayla's small foot. Upon hearing the pitiful sob of the four year old, Obi-Wan felt his placid demeanor fade considerably. Without a second thought, he ripped his arm free of the creature's mouth, a chunk of flesh tearing off in the process, and focused his attention on Kayla.

The female began to drag the poor child into the adjacent corner on the opposite side of the room. Obi-Wan rolled over, forcing the creature on his back to skitter away angrily. His legs trembled with the newfound weight of his body as he attempted to stand upright, and he found himself crashing into the dirt-covered floor.

Without a moment's pause to regain his stolen breath, he dove forwards and managed to grab onto one of Kayla's flailing arms.

The tot held onto him desperately, squealing with fear as the female creature snarled and tightened her grip on Kayla's foot. Obi-Wan ignored the other eleven creatures making timid swipes at his unprotected body and tried to pull Kayla closer.

"Obi-Wan, please don't let go of me." She pleaded, fresh tears pouring out of the brown depths.

The terror embedded in that single voice was enough to melt his heart. He quickly abandoned his outstretched position and tucked his legs underneath his body. Pulling Kayla closer to his chest, he struck out with his foot and landed his boot squarely in the female's jaw, causing her grip on Kayla to falter. With a snarl, the creature went tumbling backwards, landing on all fours.

His strength fueled on pure adrenaline, he wrapped his arms around Kayla and hugged her close. He slid into the shadowed corner of the room and whirled around in just enough time to narrowly avoid a blow to the head.

Before his panic-driven mind could figure out the next course of action, all twelve creatures attacked at once.

Dropping to his knees and bending over, Obi-Wan shielded Kayla's body with his own as the creatures attacked mercilessly. Knifelike claws tore the skin apart on his back, forcing a muffled scream to escape his throat. A well-aimed punch to the ribcage sent him toppling over and into the fetal position, Kayla still clinging to his torso.

More heavy blows rained down upon the two, inflicting enough wounds to cover every Jedi on Coruscant. Obi-Wan suppressed another scream as a portion of his flesh was eaten. Even through closed eyes, he could see the room start to spin, and he could feel a nauseated sensation build up in his stomach.

Swallowing thickly, he concentrated on the feeble strands of the Force, gathering each piece and weaving them together to create one large mass. After relishing in the brief comfort it provided, he exerted the mound of energy into a powerful Force-push.

All twelve creatures were shoved to the other side of the room. Crying out in confusion and bewilderment, less than half of the monstrous beings began to climb the brick wall quickly, disappearing into a small hatch in the ceiling.

Obi-Wan's heart sank. The only way out of the room was to crawl through that small door in the roof, and it seemed near impossible for a mere human to do so – Jedi or not.

The remaining creatures were now on all fours, regarding him with precise envision. Narrowed, yellow eyes studied him carefully, daring him to make the next move.

One by one, they crept forward in silence, keen eyes unblinking and fixed. He shivered beneath their stare, the very core of his being rattling at the sight.

Kayla took a brave chance, and stole a peek at what was about to transpire. She quickly buried her face back into Obi-Wan's shoulder at the display of rage reflected in the creature's eyes.

Obi-Wan held her close, and pressed his back against the wall firmly. He flicked his gaze from one creature to the other, trying to pick out a weakened foe.

He found none.

Each creature was approaching with one, single objective, and it wasn't guiltless. Their ambition was to kill – to feed – to enjoy one last meal before having to turn on their own. Their deformity added to the ripple of hatred dripping off them in fresh coils. Their eyes were hopeful, and full of courage and fortitude.

The attacks came quicker than before. He tried to move, he tried to roll away from their promiscuous swipes, but it was useless. They overpowered him and his young friend, and they didn't leave one area of skin unscathed.

Desperation clung to Obi-Wan's aura like a hopeless child forsaking its mother. He squirmed against the tight holds the creature's had on his arms and legs, kicking and lashing out whenever possible. Kayla was torn from his embrace rather sharply, and it drove him to fight even harder.

He reached out for the Force, only to find that his last exertion had drained him of its usage. He shied away from a creature and was thrown onto his stomach by another. Pain blinded him from every angle, pushing him closer and closer to the state of unconsciousness.

Kayla screamed, and Obi-Wan ceased in his struggling. The four-year-old was on her back, crying, as one of the creatures hovered above her dangerously. The child whimpered loudly, trying to curl into herself as a form of protection.

Heart threatening to burst, Obi-Wan stood shakily, shoving several creatures off at once, and took three cautious, yet hasty, steps forward.

Pain laced throughout the entire backside of his right calf as a creature stubbornly held onto him. Sharp claws dug deep into his skin, fingers disappearing into the flesh at the first knuckle. As its grip intensified, so did the pain.

With one potent movement, the creature jerked its hand back – taking with it, the entire base of the Jedi's Achilles tendon.

Obi-Wan screamed as the muscle shriveled and curled, his leg giving away almost instantly. Black and white dots obscured his vision, threatening to send him into a restless slumber were he to give in to the enclosing darkness.

His breath came in labored pants, chest heaving, as more and more blows descended down upon his body. Once, in a spare ounce of momentarily release, he glanced down at his injured leg, only to close his eyes immediately at the gruesome injury.

Shredded flesh hung off his leg in pieces, the split muscle underneath clearly visible. Dirt and grime surrounded the wound from his constant thrashing and convulsing on the ground. His leg burned with the intensity of a thousand lightsabers, and it proved to be beneficial for the other creatures as they caught the sight of fresh blood.

Scraggly arms wrapped around him, pulling and tugging greedily. His tunic ripped in several places, and at one point it felt as though his arm was going to be ripped straight out of its socket.

Searching his delusional mentality for some type of comfort zone, he inadvertently grabbed onto the fraying strand of a nearly forgotten bond. Warmth surrounded that small area of his mind, and he clung to it weakly.

_-MASTER!-_

The feeble call for help was out of desperation, and he prayed to whatever god existed that it was heard.

Somehow, Obi-Wan was hardly surprised when he was sat upright, and a hand shot through his chest. The pain in his leg numbed in comparison, and he blinked rapidly, trying to process what had just occurred.

He looked down, and sure enough, one of the creatures had punched its bony fist straight through his lung, inhuman strength supplementing the action. He blinked once, twice, and then slumped forwards, his natural breathing pattern destroyed forever.

------

_-MASTER!-_

Qui-Gon's eyes snapped open, his breath hitching.

The familiar, greatly missed cultured accent filtered through a virtually non-existent bond, pulling him out of meditation almost too abruptly.

He hurriedly got to his feet and made way for his bedroom.

He had some packing to do.

_To be continued._

_

* * *

_**A/N:** Oh, boy. That was a rough ride. This my first attempt at torture, so it's a little rushed and noobish. But I think it turned out decent enough. Forgive me if there are any errors – I'm a bit drained.

Also, if by some lovely little miracle you enjoy my writing - put me on your author alerts/favorites or whatever it is you do.

I've got five more Obi-Qui based stories in the works. And I think you'll enjoy them.

Review?


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: **Aliens abducted me. I couldn't update.

* * *

Chapter 7.

* * *

Qui-Gon's footsteps were quick, synchronizing with the pace of his heartbeat as he strode down the empty corridor. His eyes were fixed on the worn exterior of his boots, and the blurred vision of the tiled floor below. Dark thoughts wove through and around his mind, creating vivid images of his former student.

None of them were pleasant.

He swallowed thickly, stepping to the side in order to avoid collision with a young Temple Healer. She paid him no mind, and he was grateful. A distraction wasn't something he wanted to deal with at the moment. He'd wasted enough time convincing Anakin that his reasons for running out of the apartment like a man who had caught fire were substantial, and completely balanced.

Anakin hadn't believed his delusive prevarication, which was to be expected, but the boy thankfully allowed him to depart with the promise that he would return by morning.

_Now if only I can keep that obligation,_ he mused, shoving another horrific depiction of his ex-Padawan from his illustrative psyche, struggling to keep his concentration in the present where it belonged. The image came crawling back, much to his annoyance, and was as clear and gruesome as it had been when first conceived.

He shuddered, fingers curling and uncurling around the wide hem of his sleeve. A shiver wracked his body, forcing him to let out a slow, deep breath.

_You're losing it, old man. _The ever-persistent voice in the back of his mind piped up._ You're fretting over something that might've only been a silly dream, created by your own overly-protective imagination. Concentrate!_

Releasing a bitter scoff at his own self-denouncement, he rounded the corner, consequently tripping over a smaller being, one who barely reached his knees.

After regaining his balance, Qui-Gon glanced down at the small obstacle, and was horrified at the sight.

In response, a small cane prodded his leg. "Look so dispirited, you should not. But very wise it would be, to watch your step."

"I'm -"

A new voice interrupted. "Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon inwardly kicked himself. "Mace," he greeted informally.

Windu eyed him carefully. "Where are you headed?"

Qui-Gon peered over his friend's shoulder at the main hangar entrance, only a few feet away. He grimaced. "Nowhere in particular."

Yoda chuckled dryly, and tapped his gimer stick against Qui-Gon's calf. "Your finest ability, lying never was."

Mace smirked in uncharacteristic amusement.

Qui-Gon growled under his breath. "If you'll excuse me, Masters, I -"

Yoda whacked his shin. Qui-Gon hissed. "Kneel down, you must. Too tall, you are."

Qui-Gon obeyed immediately, if only to keep the troll from bruising his legs any further. "Master Yoda, I have somewhere I need to be."

"And where is that, hmm?" Yoda drawled, lightly poking Qui-Gon's knee.

"I cannot say."

Yoda huffed. "Can not, or will not? Fear you do, of disapproval. Tell us, you will."

Qui-Gon sighed deeply, lowering his gaze to the marble floor beneath his shoes. "I'm going to find him, Master, with or without your consent."

"Hmph." Yoda's ears drooped a little.

Qui-Gon continued, "He's been gone far too long. I'm worried."

Yoda stepped closer to him, a strange gleam in his eye. "Too distrusting, you are. Accompany you, Master Windu will."

Mace's head snapped around to stare incredulously at the small Jedi. Qui-Gon blinked rapidly.

"What?"

"Bad decision, this was, to send him. In danger, he is." He paused. "Felt this, I have."

Qui-Gon's stomach lurched. "Do you know of his condition?"

"Blurred, this perception was. Unaware I am, of young Obi-Wan's health."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Qui-Gon stood somewhat shakily.

Mace cleared his throat. "Master Yoda, do you really think it's necessary to barge in on Kenobi's mission like this?"

"No choice, we have." Yoda averted his eyes, placing two clawed hands on the end of his gimer stick. "Do this, you must."

After another rebuke from Mace, followed by a newly-sported bruise on the mahogany-colored Jedi's shin, Yoda ushered the two of them into the hangar, prodding the back of Mace's legs every so often to keep him moving.

As they entered the shuttle, Mace turned around to protest once more.

"With all due respect, Master, I do not agree with this," he said quietly.

Yoda smiled. "Agree with anything, you do not."

Qui-Gon barely suppressed a mirthless grin as he watched Windu stalk off to the cockpit, unwilling to allow the troll to gnaw at his self-esteem any longer. Qui-Gon stared meaningfully at Yoda, gratitude radiating from every pore in his body.

"Go now, you will." Yoda waved a hand lightly, sending a small tendril of the Force in his direction as a way of motivation.

"Will you not accompany us, Master?" Qui-Gon asked, knowing Yoda would make a fine contribution to the team.

"Do this alone, you and Master Windu must. Wait for you, I will."

Qui-Gon took a step forward. "I don't know where to look for him."

"Use your feelings, Qui-Gon, and find him you will."

Qui-Gon eyed the troll dubiously, and then closed the door with only slight hesitation.

--

Kayla Vosa sat in silence, knees tucked against her chest as a way of warding of the sudden chills wracking her body. She didn't quite understand the situation as clearly as she would have liked, and it was frustrating. Her new friend, Obi-Wan, was somewhere in the cell – probably still in that frightful position near the wall where she'd last seen him, but she didn't dare touch him again.

Upon her last examination, when night had begun to creep forth, she'd prodded his side lightly, hoping to wake him up. But he didn't move, and when she placed her hand on his chest to shake him, a warm liquid rubbed off onto her hand. She'd made a face, and then wiped it off on her own shirt. After that, she figured it would have been best to let him sleep.

But now, she wasn't so sure. He still hadn't moved, and the room was growing considerably darker. She tried to avoid the realization that something might be wrong, that maybe he was sleeping a little too deeply, but the idea always stuck with her, and it was difficult to evade.

Standing up on wobbly legs, she scuffled towards where she thought his body was. Her foot collided with something hard, and she bent down. "Obi?"

She poked his leg.

"Obi Kenobi?"

He groaned, and she settled into a crouch. "Time to get up," she whispered in a sing-song voice, cocking her head to the side.

No answer. She huffed in slight irritation, standing into an upright position. "You're on the floor," she observed plainly, as if the statement would rouse him immediately.

When no response was given, she grabbed his arm and gave a light tug. "Get _up_," she stressed.

A whimper escaped the man. Kayla chewed on her lip in confusion.

She trotted to his other side and plopped down on the floor. Taking a deep breath, she pushed on his side, trying to roll him towards the wall.

No such luck. She planted her feet into the ground and pushed again, harder this time. He moved about a centimeter, and then limply fell back into his original position. She made another attempt, but the action was useless.

She panted wildly. "You're heavy!" She paused to gulp in some air. "Do you eat full bantha's or somethin'?"

As expected, he didn't answer. She shook her head in dismay, falling onto her back and scooting closer to her unusually cold friend. She tucked herself against his side and wrapped her fist around his forearm, squeezing tightly.

"I'm gonna take a nap, but if you wake up before me, you're in big trouble," she whispered, shutting her eyes in content.

She didn't mean it as an insult, or a threat. She only hoped that her nap would be quick and replenishing, so when she awoke she could try and push him over to the wall, where it was a lot more comfortable.

Sighing softly, she tightened her grip on his arm and drifted off into a light slumber.

--

"Morte is only a few miles away," Mace announced quietly. "We'll be there in a few minutes."

Qui-Gon nodded, tapping his foot impatiently against the metallic floor. He stared out the front windshield at the approaching planet of Morte, a wave of anxiety passing through his body.

The thought of Obi-Wan hurt, even if it were just a small scratch, was devastating. Over ten promising years ago, he had been assigned as the boy's Master, and he made it his solemn duty to protect him – no matter what the costs. And just because he was no longer the boy's mentor, it didn't make his paternal streak lessen any.

_What if he's not there, _he thought with a sickening twist of his gut._ What if he's been taken by some careless monster? What if - _

"Calm down," Mace said softly. "I can see you shaking from here." He leaned back in his seat as the auto-pilot was switched on. "We don't know anything yet."

"That's the problem," Qui-Gon muttered shakily. "We don't know _anything_. He could be dead, for all we know."

"Or," Mace put in. "He could be perfectly fine, dealing with his first mission like a true Knight."

"Either way, I need to see him."

Silence took over, leaving the two Jedi with their own thoughts. Qui-Gon shifted in his chair nervously, despite Mace's previous instruction to calm down.

How could he be calm when his son was in danger? It was a ridiculous instruction.

"I still remember his first day at the Temple," Mace observed quietly. "He was somewhere in his second cycle."

Qui-Gon smiled a little, but offered no contribution to the topic at hand.

Mace continued in remembrance, "Did you know he was the quietest boy in his age group?"

"I figured as much," Qui-Gon answered. "He never was much of a talker, unless a conversation was initiated with him first."

"He wouldn't even look at me when I first saw him. He just stuck his head under a pillow and went to sleep. Right on the floor."

Qui-Gon chuckled dryly. "He had a knack for falling asleep in the oddest of places."

"I'm sure. I once found him conked out in a laundry basket." Mace smirked. "And when I went to wake him up, another toddler poked his head out from a nearby bin and told me to be quiet."

"Getting told off by younglings," Qui-Gon laughed bitterly. "So very uncharacteristic of you, Mace."

"Yeah, well," Mace sighed. "I wasn't about to put them in time out or anything."

"Sentimental too? I've never seen this side of you before."

Mace scoffed humorlessly. "Perhaps the reason for that is every time I see you; you're making my life hell by defying my decisions."

Qui-Gon smiled. "It's been my sworn oath since the day we met."

"Don't remind me," Mace sighed. "Anyway, the other little boy who practically scolded me for being too loud happened to be Garen Muln."

Qui-Gon cocked an eyebrow. "Garen? I had no idea he and Obi-Wan went back that far."

"They were inseparable, clinging to each other in every mischievous undertaking of theirs."

"Enlighten me."

"They slipped away from the crèche Master and raided the kitchens once, eating every last morsel of cookie the Temple chefs had to spare."

Qui-Gon laughed again. "I always thought Obi-Wan to be a guiltless child."

"Oh, he was," Mace said. "Once you set aside the inconvenient catnaps and hyperactive exertions after consuming the Order's supply of baked goods, they were both actually very gentle kids."

"Inconvenient catnaps," Qui-Gon mused. "I assume there's a story behind this, apart from the laundry basket fiasco."

"There is. During one of the Temple gatherings, the ones where every being within the walls are to attend, Obi-Wan and Garen were both in the front row along with the rest of their class. They were about three years old here, I think. But they both fell asleep sitting in their chairs, and simultaneously fell off – still sleeping, and proceeded to snore throughout the rest of the service."

Qui-Gon stifled a laugh. "That's horrible, Mace."

"It sure was, especially considering the fact it happened during _my_ speech. Master Yoda couldn't even control himself."

Qui-Gon smiled, shaking his head in amusement. He suddenly sighed, and slumped in his seat. "I wish I had known him then. Perhaps things would have turned out differently."

Mace's expression softened. "Things worked out between you two in the end. I don't see how knowing him in his early years would have changed anything."

"I wouldn't have nearly denied the one person in my life that made it worth getting out of bed in the morning," Qui-Gon replied. "Even if it were only to drag him out of his own."

Mace didn't say anything after that, and Qui-Gon felt immensely relieved at the silence. They were closing in on Morte and he was still struggling to conjure up an opening statement to execute once they found Obi-Wan. After a year of silence, he wasn't quite sure what could be said to mend the deep rift that had formed between them, if anything.

As the ship entered Morte's atmosphere, a green-colored mist surrounded the tiny vessel like a lingering fog. Tension filled the room.

"This isn't right." Mace's voice was grave. "Bring up the planet's archives."

Qui-Gon obeyed hastily, typing in a few keywords into the control panel at his left. After a brief moment, a screen appeared on the dashboard, flickering due to a faulty connection before presenting the planet's documented events.

"Look under 'Incorporated Enterprise'." Mace instructed, switching off the auto-pilot. "See if there's been any recent contamination to the air supply."

Qui-Gon quickly skimmed the list of chemicals. He shook his head slowly. "There's nothing out of the ordinary. Just a few mixed elements used to create better living conditions."

"Read them off."

Qui-Gon sighed. "R-14 Zaitini and S-72 Lioxide were two infiltrated halogens. There are a few standard alchemical additions as well: two issues of Q-27 Metalaroid synthetics, a small amount of T-02 Raiminent, J-52 Telision, G-23 Paxilon Hydrochlorate, and an increased measure of D-60 Flioride."

There was a pause.

"Check the G-23 Paxilon Hydrochlorate." Mace said finally. "I'm not sure if it's been authorized or not."

Qui-Gon entered in a few more keywords, and waited patiently as a small description of the chemical appeared onscreen. "It was added about three weeks ago. And it _was_ authorized," Qui-Gon confirmed, "It was used with the intention of weeding out aggression and calming the population to the extent of peacefulness."

"Looks like it had the opposite effect." Mace whispered quietly, staring out the front windshield with a disturbed expression.

Qui-Gon followed his gaze and recoiled at the sight before him. Countless bodies lay strewn about the ruined fields of the small planet, mangled in the worst possible ways, limbs twisted in awkward positions. The most horrific sight, however, was the blood. The thick, red liquid stained just about every inch of dry soil in view.

Any hopeful thoughts he'd garnered previously vanished quickly, leaving his heart to pound wildly against its ribbed prison. His chest tightened, and he found himself staring at each body, unwillingly searching for a familiar face.

"This is impossible," he whispered after a moment. "A simple chemical addition to the air filters cannot be the cause for such mutilation."

"Not unless the added chemical spawned an unintentional reaction to the planet's native life forms."

Qui-Gon swallowed thickly. "Do you think it's safe to go out in…._that_?" He gestured toward the green-like fog.

"Only one way to find out."

Quietly, the pair of Jedi exited the ship with some hesitance. Qui-Gon trailed after the Council member in silence as they descended down the entrance ramp.

They both stopped in their tracks, concentrating on the air around them. It was thick, almost humid, and held the putrid stench of death and destruction. A light tingling sensation filled Qui-Gon's nose, and he suddenly felt lightheaded.

"We should be safe," Mace muttered. "Just as long as we get out of here quickly."

They treaded the uneven earth carefully, stepping over bodies when there was no other passage, and listening for any hint of movement aside from their own.

Qui-Gon noted dolefully that most of the buildings were in shambles. Not one structure remained in its normal, replete position, save for a few government constructions that had been spared for reasons unknown.

The steady rhythm of footsteps ceased as they came to a halt before a large dwelling, roughly the size of the Jedi Temple.

"If he's alive, Obi-Wan should be in here," Mace said quietly. "This is the last place we heard from him."

Qui-Gon fiddled with the lightsaber in his hand, rubbing his thumb absently against the metallic hilt. "What if he's not here?"

Mace paused. "Then I don't know what to tell you."

_Then he damn well better be in there,. _Qui-Gon thought stubbornly.

The doors opened with ease and without restriction. It made Qui-Gon wonder if something more loathsome was amiss. A building holding such authority warranted security, but there wasn't even a trace of human life within the small admission passage.

"The air is getting thicker," he observed. "Thicker than outside, I mean."

Mace shook his head. "It's not the air. It's the Force."

Qui-Gon frowned. "I don't understand."

"The damage to the life on this planet is severe, there's been so much destruction, the Force is denying existence."

"That doesn't make sense. The Force doesn't just _abandon_ a population like that. Unless -"

"Unless a larger work of influence is at hand here," Mace finished grimly.

Qui-Gon cringed, not wanting to imagine the endless possibilities that would cause the Force to just suddenly disappear. He still refused to believe it, even as he felt the perpetual energy he'd relied on since boyhood start to fade until it was nearly nonexistent.

The sound that followed his distant thoughts was so clear, so loud, that even though Qui-Gon knew it was in a different part of the building, it seemed as if it was right there next to him. It was like a woman wailing in grief, weeping over a loved one, the piercing scream rising, wavering, and then falling off into a hissing sob.

Something crashed and echoed throughout one of the many corridors surrounding the room where the two Jedi presently stood in.

The screech tore through the once-calm atmosphere again, more insistent this time, edged with anger. Another voice joined in with the clamorous shriek, higher pitched than the first, and a little sharper.

Qui-Gon squeezed the lightsaber in his palm tightly, listening to the frantic snarls of whatever was coming for them. His heart pounded wildly.

Another crash followed by a more intense, reverberating bellow shot through the air. He looked around the room desperately, searching for the source of the inhuman sound. No insight was provided for him, until a large shadow loomed over him before sending his large body sailing to the metallic floor.

Qui-Gon could hear a cry of alarm in Mace's direction, but his own concentration was set on the dark figure clawing at his torso. He ignited his lightsaber and gave it a twirl. The beast's leg fell to the floor with a sickening thud.

He gasped, allowing Mace to drag him to his feet quickly. The creature that had tackled him was female, and like nothing he had ever seen before. Tangled, matted, and dark, frizzy hair protruded from her head in clumps. Her skin was pale, almost translucent as the blue veins beneath her flesh pulsed in sync with her erratic heartbeat. Her eyes held no depth, and no color. Just solid black, seemingly staring at nothing, but full of hatred and despite. She growled numerous threats in her own, demonic tongue, disfigured teeth sliding out from behind red-hued lips.

She twisted on the ground, the loss of her leg giving her no desire to attack now that her prey held an obviously more-lethal weapon.

Mace bent down, extending his right hand to try and soothe the wild female. She snapped at his fingers, and he withdrew quickly, taking a few precarious steps back.

"What is it?" Qui-Gon asked, raising his voice in order to be heard above the creature's desolate cries.

The look on Mace's face was one of pure disgust. "I don't know."

Above the pitiful, agonizing shrieks of the defenseless woman, more screeching reached their ears. Qui-Gon and Mace ignited their sabers simultaneously, the green and purple tints casting an eerie glow on the female's face. She hissed in response.

The two Jedi looked at each other. Qui-Gon tried to say something, but the woman at his feet wailed sharply, drowning out his voice.

He went to repeat himself, louder this time, but the woman outscreamed him in length and volume. Qui-Gon winced as the shrill cry intensified tenfold within seconds, and he lightly kicked at the woman's groping fingers as she tried to grab onto his feet.

Mace began to trot towards one of the hallways, and Qui-Gon followed without much reluctance, leaving the crippled woman to suffer in her own agony. As they entered the porcelain foyer, the woman's howling was soon accompanied with several other, new voices.

The Jedi turned, eyes widening at the sight of four other beasts standing at her side, the lot of them varying in size and shape. Without a moment's hesitation, the two of them took off in a full-fledged run, cloaks billowing out behind them as they turned corners quicker than they should have.

Just as they were about to reach the main hall, a creature dropped down in front of them, seemingly out of nowhere. Before Qui-Gon could take the time to figure out if it was male or female, the monster was charging forward and his lightsaber automatically flew into an upward stroke, slicing the beast in half.

Not taking the time to study their latest attacker, the pair rounded the last corner and came to an abrupt halt in the doorway of the main hall.

Qui-Gon was pretty sure his jaw was somewhere on the floor at that moment. The room had once been fit for a king, with lavish furniture and polished, marble walls. But now, the large vacated space was anything but that. Bodies upon bodies littered the ground, half of them resembling the creatures they'd just run into earlier, while the other half held every human feature possible – from the glossy, colored irises to the pallid tinge of their skin.

Mace took the first step into the room, bewilderment rolling off the Councilor in heavy waves. Qui-Gon followed at his own pace, heart hammering in his chest as he searched each face for some spark of familiarity. He made his way to the chrome desk on the other side of the room, stepping over countless bodies in the process.

"Damn it," Mace growled uncharacteristically, bending over to inspect one of the bodies.

Qui-Gon approached him. "What's wrong?"

Mace's expression was one of concern. He shook his head slightly, dark eyes narrowed in concentration. "It's Setzer Vosa."

Qui-Gon looked down at the still form. "You know him?"

"Not personally," Mace answered. "He was in charge here. In the last report Obi-Wan sent us, he said Vosa wasn't cooperating with his demands to end the chaos."

"I suppose the chaos ended him instead," Qui-Gon muttered, turning away from the gruesome sight at his feet.

"Let's hope Obi-Wan hasn't suffered the same fate," Mace said as he stood swiftly.

Qui-Gon managed to keep his mouth shut, not wanting to anger his long-time friend by uttering a bitter retort of denial. He slowly walked along the edges of the room, turning away when entrails were visible and suppressing a growl when he found no sign of his former Padawan. Part of him was happy with his lack of evidence, while another part screamed for some sort of clue.

The latter proved to be more dominant as Mace stepped up behind him, placing a hand on his forearm. Qui-Gon faced the elder Jedi, whose expression was unreadable. Before Qui-Gon could find his voice, something was placed in his hand. He looked down, and felt his knees buckle at the sight.

It was his lightsaber – _his_ lightsaber. The cylindrical construction rested firmly in his palm,

A foreign curse escaped his lips, and he strode towards the exit with confidence, not bothering to see if Mace was following, and then peered around the corner to be sure there was no danger waiting for them.

Mace was close behind him. "Search your feelings. The Force is nearly extinct here; you'll have to rely on natural instinct."

Qui-Gon nodded, taking a few cautious steps into the hallway. There was great turmoil within him; fear, worry, hatred, and a spark of curiosity as he listened to the distant wails of the creatures.

His heart sunk even further. If Obi-Wan had witnessed the massacre that took place in the main hall, the boy would surely be scarred. His inner paternal motive sprung forth suddenly, giving him the strength he needed to keep searching.

"This place is huge," Qui-Gon whispered. "I'm not sure where to begin."

"Trust yourself," Mace whispered back. "I'd help if I could, but I'm afraid my connection with Obi-Wan has been shaken as of late. I haven't had a real conversation with him since the aftermath on Naboo."

Qui-Gon frowned, stepping over a slab of concrete as he rounded a corner. "You talked on Naboo? I wasn't aware of this."

"Probably because you were too busy fiddling with the Chosen One." Mace's voice was soft and barely accusing, but Qui-Gon could feel the heat on his face nonetheless.

"I wasn't abandoning Obi-Wan, even if it seemed like it. I would never hurt him."

"Yet you shoved him out of the way to make room for your new charge. You barely even spoke at his Knighting Ceremony."

"We argued, actually." Qui-Gon reminded bitterly. "He was bent on telling me how dangerous Anakin was, and how he felt about my training of him. It wasn't pretty."

"Did you ever consider that there was some truth to his words?"

"Where is this coming from, Mace? Do you think I haven't beaten myself up over this already? If I could go back and change things, I would, but I don't even know if that would make a difference."

Mace sighed. "I'm sorry, but Obi-Wan is a find Jedi, and he's proved himself worthy more times than I can count. He's made a great addition to the Order, but it's difficult to watch him dissipate like he has been lately. His confidence has almost been shot."

Qui-Gon shook his head, rounding another corner. "I'm proud of the person he's become, but rubbing my mistakes in my face isn't going to help the situation."

"Once again, I apologize, but if he's to join the Council one day, it would help if he had a bit more certainty about his decisions."

Qui-Gon froze then, turning to face the other Jedi with a shocked expression. "You're going to put him on the Council?"

Mace continued walking, not even pausing to meet his gaze. "We've talked about it, even though it _is_ a bit early to discuss such things. There are no guarantees, however. He would make a subtle addition, but only time will tell. He isn't yet old enough."

Qui-Gon beamed, and trailed after Windu. "That's an honor, and I'm sure Obi-Wan will think the same. I'm very proud of him."

"As am I," Mace replied. "I think he's worthy of the promotion, but that's not the point."

"Then what is?"

"You need to make things right, Qui-Gon. He's not okay. Even if he says differently, you _must_ get him through both past and present disputes. Otherwise his charisma and self-esteem will go downhill, and his responsibilities as a Jedi will follow. Without defiance or certainty, his performance during missions may falter."

They entered another hallway, one that was slightly more polished than the last. Qui-Gon swallowed thickly. "I never wanted to do this to him."

"But you did," Mace quipped. "And it's not permanent, so don't go thinking what you've done is absolute. There's still time for change. I know I'm being harsh, but this all comes from my concern for the both of you. I don't want to see one of the Order's finest teams become disquieted hermits."

"Disquieted hermits?" Qui-Gon forced a smile. "Your choice of words doesn't comfort me."

"Well, if you continue this same path, you'll both end up on some dreadful planet for your retirement with only each other's company."

Qui-Gon smirked. "I wouldn't mind that."

They passed another entrance by a few feet, but Qui-Gon was suddenly jolted from his past-reverie and thrust back into reality. He backtracked a few paces and stood in front of a sealed entrance. A familiar presence radiated from behind that closed door, and his heart skipped nearly two beats at his luck.

"Mace!" He cried suddenly, slamming his fist into the control panel numerous times. "He's in here."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," he tried the panel again. "The door's stuck."

"Here," Mace nudged him out of the way, unclipping his saber from his belt. With a downward slash, the operative hindrance fell to the floor with a hiss, loose wires protruding from the spot where it had been.

"Nice one," Qui-Gon slid the door open manually.

"I do what I can."

They both squeezed through the door at once, blinking to adjust their eyes in the sudden darkness. Qui-Gon flipped a switch, and a dingy light flickered on. He frowned.

The room was empty.

"Damn it," Qui-Gon hissed, walking around the tight space angrily. "He's here, Mace. I can feel it. He's here…"

Mace suddenly lowered himself to the floor, peering under the furniture carefully.

Qui-Gon fell silent and followed Mace's lead, sliding down onto his hands and knees to stare underneath the furnishings. He saw nothing aside from dust mites and garbage.

"There's nothing," Qui-Gon said, agitated. "Perhaps we're in the wrong room."

"Yes. We are." Mace confirmed, standing up. He walked over to a datapad-shelf and pushed it out of the way.

The tall piece of furniture obscured Qui-Gon's sight of the other Jedi, and he questioned Mace's actions hesitantly. "What are you doing?"

"There's a door here."

Qui-Gon was at Mace's side in an instant. Below their feet was a square, trapdoor in the metallic floor – made out of wood.

Mace kicked his foot against it. "It's unlocked." Wedging his foot under the handle, Mace flipped the door open. The top of it clattered to the ground noisily.

Qui-Gon growled. "There's no ladder, or any way of getting down."

"Sure there is," Mace said, and then proceeded to jump down the tiny shaft.

Qui-Gon's jaw dropped, and it was a long while before he heard his friend land on the ground below. "Is it safe?" He called out, straining his ears.

Mace's voice was muffled. "Yeah. Can't see a damn thing, though." A string of muffled curses. "Just watch your step when you land. The terrain is rough."

Qui-Gon inhaled sharply and plunged down into the dark passage. The air rustled through his clothing and hair. He landed a little awkwardly, but felt a hand on his shoulder to help keep his balance. It was Mace.

"Thanks," Qui-Gon mumbled.

Mace nodded, or at least, it looked like Mace had nodded. The room was dark, and only a faint outline of shadows was visible. Qui-Gon looked around. "I can't see anything."

"Must I repeat my earlier statement?"

Qui-Gon huffed, and took a step forward. "I rather you didn't."

"Then stop complaining about your lack of sight." Mace admonished. "Start using your other senses like the damn Jedi you are."

_Now who needs to calm down?_ Qui-Gon though briskly, stretching out with his feelings toward the darkened room as previously instructed.

It took longer than necessary, considering the circumstances, but the brilliant presence of Obi-Wan suddenly flared in his mind, churning and filling him to the core with happiness.

"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon called out softly, taking a few more steps forward.

A grunt was the only response, and it was feminine. Qui-Gon furrowed his brow and tightened his grip on the hilt of his lightsaber. If it was one of those damn creatures….

A thought suddenly came to him. He pressed the small, red button, and a green hue suddenly filled the room. It was a promising light source and would not extinguish unless prompted to. He smiled a little.

Qui-Gon squinted, and saw two huddled forms in the middle of the floor, huddled together. His breath hitched, and he took off in a dead sprint towards the two figures.

As he neared the two bodies, he saw the familiar face of Obi-Wan, relaxed in unconsciousness, yet deeply disturbed by something unseen. He collapsed to his knees and reached out, only to have his hand smacked by a much smaller one.

"Don't do that," a tiny voice chirped.

Qui-Gon blinked and felt Mace kneel down beside him. It was a little girl, at least four years of age, if that, with dark curls surrounding her round face. She glared up at both of them, sitting cross-legged in front of Obi-Wan, arms folded over her chest.

"Hello, young one," Mace said in the calmest voice possible, something Qui-Gon wouldn't have been able to master even if he tried. His concentration was completely focused on Obi-Wan.

The little girl didn't answer. She just simply glared, trying to look as menacing as possible.

"What's your name?" Mace asked.

The girl pursed her lips, staring at the strangers oddly. "Kayla Vosa."

Qui-Gon shared a baffled expression with Mace. It was Setzer's daughter.

Mace smiled genuinely, overcoming his shock at the new information. "Kayla, do you know Obi-Wan?"

Kayla turned around to look at the limp Jedi behind her, and then stared at Mace, her expression a little less angry. "Uh-huh."

"Will you let us look at him?"

"Nuh-uh." Kayla pressed her back against Obi-Wan's leg. "I don't want you to."

"We need to help him." Qui-Gon interjected, finally finding his voice.

Kayla peered at Qui-Gon closely. Slowly, she stood, tiny hands poking at his shoulder-length hair. "Your hair's kinda like his, I think." She looked over at Mace. "You don't have hair."

Mace frowned, and Qui-Gon would have laughed, if only the situation had been different.

Kayla plopped back down on the floor, a cloud of dust filling the air around her. When it cleared, she looked at Qui-Gon seriously. "Are you his daddy?"

Qui-Gon looked at the unconscious Knight at his feet, only a mere foot away. "Yes."

Kayla smiled brightly. "You are?" She stared at him hopefully.

Qui-Gon nodded. "Yes. I am."

The girl beamed proudly, and bounced on the floor to emphasize her excitement. "So you're gonna take him home?"

Qui-Gon nodded again.

She scooted out of the way. "You can have him then, but don't touch his chest, 'cause I don't think he liked it when I did it earlier…"

Qui-Gon looked over at Mace, who nodded once in confirmation.

Mace plucked the little girl from the floor and held her. "Hold on tight, young one."

Kayla wrapped her arms around the man's neck and clung for dear life. She peeked over his shoulder and looked at the ground. "You're really tall." She buried her face in Mace's shoulder.

Mace whispered to Qui-Gon, "I'm going to get her upstairs. Take care of Obi-Wan. I'll be waiting."

Qui-Gon nodded numbly, and watched as Mace jumped gracefully back up the shaft. A tiny squeal was emitted from Kayla in the process.

He then focused his concentration on Obi-Wan. He adjusted his ignited saber, and held it out to achieve a better examination of the Knight.

Qui-Gon felt his stomach churn at the sight.

Blood caked the younger Jedi's torso, and a gaping hole shone distinctly on his chest. Qui-Gon scrambled closer to his former student, and shook him gently.

"Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan, can you hear me?"

No answer. Qui-Gon's hands began to shake as he lifted the ex-Padawan from the floor. Obi-Wan whimpered unconsciously at the sudden movement. Qui-Gon whispered a few soothing words to calm him down.

It worked, and Qui-Gon eventually found himself carrying the young Knight in his arms, the ginger head resting snugly against the broad shoulder.

With a quick pull of the Force, Qui-Gon leapt upwards and planted his feet on the metallic floor upstairs. He saw Mace standing a few feet away, Kayla situated in his arms.

Once Mace caught sight of Obi-Wan's condition, his eyes widened, and he ushered Qui-Gon out of the room first, and then followed.

A terrifying screech echoed around them. Kayla and Obi-Wan both gave the same reaction, a tiny cringe and an almost inaudible whimper. Both of the elder Jedi fastened their holds on the younger ones.

They rushed down the hallway, turning right and left quicker than thought possible, considering the weight they were now carrying along with them. Inhuman wails followed them along each corridor, voicing their distaste of the situation quite loudly.

As they were nearing the building's main exit, three creatures darted in front of them. Two male and one female, each as grotesque and disfigured as the last, if not more.

Mace didn't even bother abiding to the rule where a Jedi is not to attack a weaponless enemy. With one singular motion, he decapitated the creatures within seconds, their heads rolling off to the side.

"Not very formal of you, Windu." Qui-Gon admonished lightly, stepping over the crumpled bodies.

"Screw formalities," Mace growled, adjusting Kayla in his grip. "When you've got a mutilated Knight and a child in your arms, rules change."

_Mutilated._ Qui-Gon felt his heart sink at the single utterance. He glanced down at Obi-Wan, and then looked up quickly, his heart breaking at the sight.

Stepping out of the building, the distant screams fading behind them, both Jedi could feel the Force gradually returning to their deprived bodies as they neared the ship. Qui-Gon sighed in relief, grateful that with the Force's reestablishment, he could put Obi-Wan into a healing trance.

The ship was exactly as they'd left it, idling and ready to take off. Once they entered the small vessel, Mace set Kayla down on the floor and slid into the piloting chair, typing in a few commands quickly. Qui-Gon proceeded to the back, laying Obi-Wan down gently on one of the beds. Kayla watched from a distance.

"What's all that red stuff?"

Qui-Gon paused. "Why don't you stay with Mace? Ask him to show you how to operate the ship."

Kayla's eyes widened. "I could do that?"

"With his guidance, yes."

She turned to leave, but hesitated. "He's the bald guy, right?"

Qui-Gon nodded, smiling a little.

Kayla grinned and took off running. After a moment, Qui-Gon could hear her voice chirping away at Mace.

Qui-Gon settled himself at the foot of the bed, concentrating on Obi-Wan's wounds and doing his best to heal them with the renewed Force. Obi-Wan thrashed a little, groaning as the movement aggravated his chest wound.

Qui-Gon placed a hand on the Knight's shoulder. "You're okay," he whispered. "You're okay."

* * *

_To be continued..._

* * *

**AN:** I don't care what I've said in previous chapters. _This_ was the toughest piece to write. I didn't mean to make it so long, but my hands just kept typing…This was also kind of rushed, but I _really_ wanted to get this out before you guys forgot about the fic completely.

Try to remember the Obi-Wan/Garen relationship I mentioned, as well as the comment about Obi and Qui becoming hermits.

Also, before I forget, the G-23 Paxilon Hydrochlorate was totally stolen from Serenity. :)


	8. Chapter 8

**AN:** Happy belated Easter everyone. Hopefully you'll be high on sugary candy and you'll take no notice of the numerous errors I've undoubtedly made in this chapter. :)

* * *

Chapter 8.

* * *

Anakin lightly kicked at the side of the bed, a continuous thump signaling the contact of his foot against its frame. The incessant noise diffused the silence, providing him a few precious moments of entertainment, until Qui-Gon's face suddenly loomed in front of him.

"Please stop," the graying Master said gently, squeezing his arm for emphasis.

Anakin complied, stifling a huff of irritation as he settled back into his chair. He glanced over at the chronometer hanging just above Obi-Wan's hospital bed, frowning as he made sense of the time. He'd first stepped into this room three hours ago, and hadn't moved since. His limbs ached and he longed to stand up and relieve himself of the tension, but the limp body of Obi-Wan and the rigid form of Qui-Gon kept him right where he was. When he'd first sat down in the padded chair, it hadn't been his intention to leave his Master alone in the room but as time wore on, the idea suddenly became appealing.

He stole a glance at the closed door adjacent of where he was sitting. Not one single Healer had come to visit yet, and Anakin was beginning to wonder if they had simply forgotten about Obi-Wan, but it seemed rather unlikely. Anakin remembered vividly what Obi-Wan had looked like the day Qui-Gon carried him into the Temple. Blood had covered the young Jedi from head to toe, and various bruises and lacerations littered the visible skin. It hadn't been a pretty sight, and Anakin chose to stay clear of his Master's ex-Padawan until things starting looking up.

But judging by Qui-Gon's current expression, his condition was not improving.

Anakin chewed at his lip and timidly asked, "Master…" he trailed off, unsure if his question would sound ridiculous to the aging Jedi. "Do you think…uh, do you think we could go spar...or something?"

Qui-Gon turned his head slightly. "No."

"But we've been here for hours," Anakin's inner boldness took over.

"And we'll sit here for eight more if needed," Qui-Gon growled sharply.

Anakin cowered a little, face paling at the thought of another eight hours in this incredibly white room. "Sorry," he mumbled meekly.

Qui-Gon sighed. "No, Ani. Don't be sorry. I shouldn't have said that," another sigh. "My place is here, and you must understand that. If you'd like, you may spend the rest of the day with your friends."

Anakin bit back a scoff. _Doesn't he know that my only real friend is some measly droid down in the garage? _Despite his bitter thought, he stood warily and made a beeline for the door.

"I'll be back soon," he called over his shoulder.

Qui-Gon gave no answer.

Anakin paused outside the room, trying to figure out what would be more fun than sitting in a stuffy hospital room. Nothing came to his mind--after all, it _was_ a Healers Ward. It wasn't meant to entertain people, only heal them, so what was there to do?

_Wander,_ Anakin thought with a slight frown. _I'll just walk around, stretch my legs a little, and then go back to Master Jinn. I don't want to leave him for too long. What kind of apprentice would I be if I left him alone?_

He began his tread through the nearly-empty corridors somewhat cautiously, not bothering to pick up his feet as he walked. Something was nagging at him, some stupid little voice in the back of his head telling him that he should be with Qui-Gon, offering his support in any possible way.

But another part of him supplied its own opinion, and it wasn't as nearly relatable as the first thought.

A much darker force pulled on him, begging him to do something that went against everything the Jedi stood for. It whispered spiteful observations into his ear concerning Obi-Wan's health, advising him to pull the plug--do something that would divert Qui-Gon's attention and fondness back to _him_ rather than Obi-Wan.

Before the sinister voice in the curve of his mind could enlighten him with other felonies, Anakin froze in his uneven stride, eyes widening at the disturbing and hostile thoughts so unlike his own. He shook his head to clear away the sadistic images the voice had produced.

None of it was true. He didn't want to do any of those things. He would _never_ do any of those things; not for all the power in the universe.

He was not jealous of Obi-Wan.

He repeated the mantra over and over; trying to grind the declaration he knew was true into his head.

A snarl-like moan sounded from one of the rooms, and Anakin paused mid-step, backtracking a few paces to inspect the patient. He craned his neck, peeking into the dim-lighted room out of sheer curiosity. A badly burned man laid on one of the two cots, bandages wrapped around every inch of his body, his face scarcely visible from underneath the layers of cloth. Anakin's interest in the victim increased and he took a careful step forward, his focus entirely on the man in the room.

A hand grabbed his shoulder, and he spun around quickly with a squeak of surprise. A Jedi, roughly a few years older than Obi-Wan, stared back at him. His hair was blond and slicked back with a substance Anakin couldn't remember the name of, giving the thin strands the appearance of being wet. His eyes were crystal blue, and his skin was by far the palest Anakin had ever seen.

The Jedi smiled at him, and Anakin felt his chest tighten. "You shouldn't wander, young one," he said calmly, voice smooth. The young Master looked at the oblivious bandage-covered patient in the bed, and promptly added, "Don't stare either. It's been known to make people uncomfortable."

The man led him out into the hallway. Anakin straightened his posture and mumbled a standard apology, causing the older Jedi to smirk. Anakin blinked in surprise.

The other Jedi simply shook his head, chuckled and then asked, "What are you doing here alone? Are you lost?"

Anakin shook his head. "No. I'm just looking."

The blond looked around. "Hardly a place for sight-seeing, little one, but I suppose to each his own, correct?"

"My Master is spending his time with someone else, so I'm stretching my legs."

"I didn't know stretching your legs required a revision of burn victims," the elder said lightly.

Anakin shrugged. "I was curious."

"Yes, I suppose you were," the Master said with a nod. "So tell me, this friend of your Master's, is he ill?"

"Not really," Anakin replied. "He was hurt on a mission."

The blond Jedi began to walk down the hall at a slow pace, and Anakin found himself trailing behind. "Is your Master close to this friend of his?"

Anakin nodded. "Yeah. They've known each other forever."

"That's quite a while," the Master smiled. "I take it you're unhappy with this?"

Anakin shrugged again, looking down at his boots. "I don't really know. I know they're friends and all, but sometimes I wish they weren't so close, that way Master could have some time for me." _Why am I spilling my guts to this guy?_ Anakin wondered. _I don't even know him!_

"Who is your best friend?"

The question caught Anakin off guard. "What?"

"Who is your best friend?" he repeated. "Or rather, who do you care about most in this world?"

The face of Shmi Skywalker suddenly came to his mind. A knifelike pain assaulted his heart, and he swallowed multiple times in order to keep his emotions in check. "My mother," he answered finally.

"Your mother?" An unbelieving expression crossed the man's face.

Anakin suddenly felt defensive. "Yes. My mother."

"I see," the Master paused before continuing. "And where is your mother right now?"

"On Tatooine." At the skeptical look he received, Anakin clarified, "She works there, but I'm going to free her one day…when I'm stronger."

The Jedi nodded thoughtfully, eyes taking on a distant façade for a brief moment. "If you were to have that strength now, would you give up your life as a Jedi in order to save her?"

Anakin frowned, coming to a halt in front of a small tank full of aquatic creatures. "I won't have to leave the Order. I just--"

"Answer the question, please." The blond Master stood a foot away from him.

Anakin paused, trying to consider his options. "I guess I would…."

"So you love her then?"

"Yeah!"

"And you would leave all of this behind – your Master and every last friend you've made in recent years – just to save your mother?"

Anakin quirked an eyebrow, and he distinctly felt as though he were on trial. "Yes…"

The young Jedi was suddenly kneeling in front of him, two hands placed on his shoulders reassuringly. "Then it is the same with your Master and his friend, young one. He's disregarding his commitment to the Order so he can watch over his friend. Give him some space. He will have time for you when things turn around."

Anakin nodded slowly, not really understanding why the Master had to be so cryptic about such a simple statement. He watched as the blond stood swiftly, patted him on the head, and began to walk back the way they had come.

"Where are you going?" Anakin called out, stepping forward as if to follow the stranger.

The answer was as clear as day. "I have a friend of my own to visit."

--

Qui-Gon impatiently tapped his finger against the arm of his chair. It was nearing the eleventh hour, and there was still no sign of a Healer. If it hadn't been for the unconscious Knight in front of him and the painful protest of his back with each slight movement, he probably would have hunted a Healer down and politely dragged them back to the room Obi-Wan currently resided in. He understood the fact that a team of Jedi was gravely injured during a recent mission and required immediate medical attention, but was it so hard to give him a simple update? Or at least a few words of assurance that his beloved Padawan would live to see another day?

Not one damn Healer had been to check the vitals of the unconscious Knight since he was first pulled out of the bacta tank a few days prior. It was ridiculous, and Qui-Gon was becoming more and more furious with each passing minute.

He wondered vaguely how Mace and Kayla were faring. Upon arrival at the Temple, as Obi-Wan was being whisked away by an incredibly rude Healer named Jetsii, the Councilor had taken the little girl to the Healing Ward to treat her wounds. It was the last time he saw either of them.

As Qui-Gon refocused his attention on his former student, he could feel the pain seeping into his eyes and the grief pumping into his heart. There had been one too many occasions in which he found himself sitting at Obi-Wan's side, fretting over whether or not he would make it through the night.

Somehow, though, this was different.

It wasn't an ordinary bullet graze, or a rough pummeling at the hands of uncaring captors. It was a hole in his chest, roughly the size of his hand, and a snapped tendon in his right leg-- something he knew would alter the boy's ability to walk. Even without a Healer's clarification, he knew the chances of Obi-Wan recovering to complete health were slim. Obi-Wan could physically heal to a perfect condition, but mentally?

Qui-Gon didn't even want to dwell on what the atrocious event would do to Obi-Wan's state of mind.

He smiled a little; realizing that even in Knighthood Obi-Wan would never be able to be rid of his Master. No matter how ill or how many times the Knight would complain, he would make it his sworn duty to sit at his side. Just like old times.

The door slid open and, thinking it was Anakin, he turned to greet him.

But it wasn't Anakin.

Hell, it didn't even _look_ like Anakin. Not even close.

"May I help you?" Qui-Gon inquired, not sure who this strange newcomer was.

As the man entered the room, Qui-Gon noted that he was a Jedi, not a Healer. Part of him deflated at that, but he took notice of the rugged robe hanging off the man's shoulders and the distinct twinkle in his eye as he approached the bed, brushing a strand of blond hair out of his face.

"How is he doing?" he inquired, completely ignoring Qui-Gon's question.

"Uh…" Qui-Gon cleared his throat. "I'm not really sure. The Healers haven't said anything yet, but he's been through bacta and surgery." He gestured with his hand. "They have him hooked up to all of these machines; I don't know what's going on." Qui-Gon blinked rapidly and shook his head. "I'm sorry, but who are you?"

"Ruben Teige," the man answered, "but please call me Teige."

Qui-Gon felt his paternal instincts kick in. "And how do you know Obi-Wan?"

Teige smiled. "I had a brief discussion with him in the gardens before his mission. He made quite an impression, collapsed right on the spot as I was teaching my Padawan the basics of meditation. I only just heard of his return and state yesterday."

Qui-Gon deflated at the mention of Obi-Wan's collapse. Did that have something to do with the visions? He hoped not.

"I also informed the Council of his loss of consciousness." Teige added. "I told them Obi-Wan had experienced a case of multiple visions."

_Damn it. _"I'm sure he was very grateful," Qui-Gon gave a faux smile.

He shrugged. "You are his Master, correct?"

"I used to be," Qui-Gon nodded. "He's a big boy now," he added with a chuckle.

Teige laughed heartedly. "How long were you together?"

"Almost thirteen years."

"Promising years, I hope."

"Indeed," Qui-Gon smiled. "We have a lot of memories together, both good and bad."

The other Jedi shifted on his feet, almost nervously. "It's not my place to intrude but, if you don't mind my asking, what were his visions of?"

Qui-Gon recalled the description Obi-Wan had given him rather grimly. "My current apprentice. Obi-Wan is certain he'll turn."

Teige's eyes widened. "And he's sure of this?"

"Yes. He's tried to tell me several times, but as much as it hurts, I won't believe him."

"Fatherly pride," Teige smirked as Qui-Gon smiled, nodding his head in agreement. "Although I _do_ think it's rather ridiculous to avoid something like this. Obi-Wan had a grade A level of visionary proficiency. Whatever he saw is more than likely to occur."

"I know," Qui-Gon whispered. "But I'm doing everything in my power to make sure it _doesn't_."

"Some futures are difficult to change." Teige provided softly, taking a few steps forward.

"Anakin is too innocent, too bright. A boy like him is only meant for goodness."

Teige nodded. "Only time will tell, I suppose."

Qui-Gon nodded, and then returned his gaze back to Obi-Wan. Teige seemed to follow his action, and the two remained in comfortable silence for a short period of time. The opening and closing of the door broke them from their reverie.

Anakin stepped into the room, head ducked and mind elsewhere. Qui-Gon watched as the boy came to an abrupt halt in front of Teige, staring up at the elder with a horrified expression. He backtracked a few paces and squeaked, "Master?"

Qui-Gon cleared his throat. "Anakin, this is Master Teige. Teige, this is my Padawan Anakin Skywalker."

Teige smiled. "Still wandering, little one?"

Anakin shook his head slowly, eyes fixed on the young Master before him. Qui-Gon frowned. Did they know each other?

Teige looked at Obi-Wan, then to Qui-Gon. "Do you mind if Anakin accompanied me and my Padawan for a brief spar?"

Qui-Gon shrugged. "Would you like to, Ani?"

"I-I don't know…" Anakin stuttered, tugging at the hem of his shirt sleeve nervously.

"Yes or no?"

Anakin gulped audibly. "Yeah. Sure."

"Good choice," Teige smiled. "We'll only be a few hours, give or take." He patted Anakin's head fondly. "Are you okay with that?"

Anakin nodded again. He looked at Qui-Gon. "I guess I'll see you later, Master."

"Have fun," Qui-Gon called after the two as they left the room. Teige waved a hand over his shoulder, indicating that he heard the remark.

And for the second time that day, Qui-Gon was left alone. Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, he stared at Obi-Wan with a poignant expression. He looked far too peaceful—face relaxed with content, snuggled deeply under the blankets. It scared him. The fact that his former student could look so at ease on the brink of death was unnerving. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle the pain he would undoubtedly feel if Obi-Wan's condition took a turn for the worst. There was too much left to be said, and far too many memories to be resorted to just that—_memories_.

He rubbed at his face absently. Where were the Healers? It was completely understandable that their initial duty was to care for those in immediate danger—the wounded Jedi from an earlier mission—but, as selfish and unprofessional as it sounded, he wanted them to care for _his_ student. He needed an update on the one person who made the last thirteen years worth living for.

The door opened, and he couldn't help but feel slight irritation at whoever the intruder was. Could no one spare him a few precious moments to wallow in grief? Qui-Gon faced the visitor—or rather, _visitors_.

"I take you haven't moved from that chair in over four hours," Mace said gently, the ghost of a smile tracing his lips.

He wanted to retort with some sarcastic, bitter remark, but the brown-haired child perched on Mace's shoulders drained away his anger almost immediately. It was a rare opportunity for him to tease a good friend, and he would take advantage of it.

"Chauffeuring children around now, Windu?"

Mace's expression turned icy. "Don't start."

Qui-Gon smiled, and the child in question beamed happily. "Hi, Qui-Gon!"

He smiled in return, and idly took note of the bandage wrapped around Kayla's foot. "How are you feeling?"

"Better!" Kayla waved her arm enthusiastically as she pointed at Mace. "Windy gave me chocolate!"

Mace feigned a laugh, and then plopped Kayla down at the foot of Obi-Wan's bed, her legs dangling off the side. She suddenly became engrossed in the surrounding machines beeping in unison.

"_Windy?_" Qui-Gon whispered as Mace took a seat in the chair next to his own.

Mace shook his head, clearly not enjoying his predicament. "She has trouble with words."

"I see," Qui-Gon nodded and kept his eyes trained on Kayla. "No improvement of Obi-Wan's condition.

"None at all?"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "There hasn't been a Healer to see him yet, which is very displeasing because you'd _think_ they'd have enough decency to check on someone who was practically _eaten_ by cannibals!"

_Alright. Hysteria will _not_ work here,_ Qui-Gon told himself. He sighed, and Mace nudged him in a sort of reassuring manner.

"I'm sure they're busy, but if it's any consolation, I'll have a word with one of them the moment I leave."

"Thank you," Qui-Gon said sincerely. "That would take a considerable amount of weight off my shoulders, at least."

"Where's Anakin?" Mace asked, brow furrowing as he glanced about the room curiously. "I'd thought you would keep him on a leash what with your obstinate attitude."

Qui-Gon laughed scornfully, then shifted his position. "Master Teige stopped by and offered to take Ani off my hands for a while. I believe they're sparring…or something akin to it." He turned to Windu. "Did you know Obi-Wan passed out after experiencing the visions?"

Mace leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. "I did."

"Why did no one tell me?"

"It wasn't our place," Mace informed. "If Obi-Wan chose not to speak of it during your initial confrontation, then he has his reasons for doing so. It was his decision, and if he failed to enlighten you, then maybe you're both having some communication difficulties."

Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"

"Just something you're probably already aware of." Mace paused before continuing, "Obi-Wan isn't open about most things, we know that. And although he struck up the courage to face you after his collapse, there's still a major break in your relationship."

Qui-Gon nodded and sighed. "I don't know how to fix it. He believes I've chosen Anakin over him, but--"

"You _have_ chosen Skywalker over him," Mace emphasized. "You just aren't realizing it due to the fact you're concentration has, up until the past few days, been solely on Anakin."

"But isn't that my job?" Qui-Gon asked, voice taking on a dangerous tone. "I train one person up until their knighthood, and then I train another without any complications."

"Your job is to train the younger generation into becoming competent Jedi, yes, but you're not supposed to forget about your previous student when taking on another. Yet with Xanatos, it was an exception."

Qui-Gon could feel a headache beginning to form. "Why us?" he asked slowly, gesturing to Obi-Wan's unconscious form. "Hundreds of other Master's have continued to take on new apprentices while still maintaining a solid relationship with the previous. I don't understand why the same can't be said with us."

"Because you're a stubborn old man with an ego the size of Coruscant itself, that's why." Mace said darkly with only a trace of amusement etched into his features.

"You're wonderful at pep talks, you know that?"

"I do what I can."

Qui-Gon shook his head amusedly, and watched as Kayla played obliviously with the bandage on her foot. "What will happen to her?" he asked, voice lowering to a whisper only Mace could take notice of.

Mace's expression turned into one of uncertainty, and his eyes became distant as he spoke. "It hasn't been decided yet. She's at least four years old with no associations to her family, aside from her father who was clearly killed on Morte."

"What about her mother?"

Mace shrugged. "As far as we know, there isn't one. Kayla was either raised by her father alone, or her mother was also killed in the massacre."

"She acts as though her parents are alive," Qui-Gon observed quietly. "Does she even know of her parents' demise?"

"It's possible that Setzer himself wasn't taking care of her but rather a babysitter of sorts. She may not have had a large enough relationship with her family for her to remember or mourn them. It's difficult to say, and only time will extract the answers."

Qui-Gon felt pity for the young girl. "Is she able to become a Jedi?"

Mace was silent for a while. "There's not many Master's or Knight's willing to take on a four year old child as their Padawan, and on top of that, she hasn't even been tested."

He scoffed. "Mace, do you really not feel the amount of energy surrounding her? She's a beacon for the Living Force, which is quite rare for someone her age. She'll pass the tests with flying colors, and you and I both know it."

"Still," Mace alleged. "I'm not so sure how many Jedi would be willing to train her."

"If I didn't have Anakin already as my Padawan, I would take her."

Mace sighed. "Qui-Gon, you would take a Force-bound sewer rat as your apprentice if you had the chance."

Qui-Gon chose to ignore the comment, and pressed on. "We cannot send her to AgriCorps."

"I agree," Mace admitted ruefully. "But I'm being serious when I say there's a low chance of anyone agreeing to train her. Anakin only lucked out because he had the famous, obstinate Qui-Gon Jinn at his side."

An idea suddenly struck Qui-Gon as his eyes landed on the still form of Obi-Wan. "What if Obi-Wan trains her?"

Mace blinked, and was silent for a few minutes. "It's….possible, but it will depend on his condition upon awakening. If he's willing and fit to care for a child in her fourth cycle, then he may have the opportunity to train her."

Qui-Gon smiled then, feeling as though something good was finally about to take place. "Then what will become of her until the decision is made?" he asked.

"She will remain in the Temple until a reasonable solution presents itself." Mace replied.

Qui-Gon nodded, and before he could ask another question or make another statement, the door opened and a young Healer poked her head in. After seeing the two Jedi, she stepped into the room and shuffled over to Obi-Wan's bedside quietly.

"It's about time," Qui-Gon glowered.

The Healer gave a nervous smile. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "We're a little tight on schedule today." She flipped through the clipboard she held in her hand, reading over the charts carefully. "We repaired his lung, and he seems to be responding well to the treatment. The bacta healed most of the bruises and lacerations, but…"

_Oh dear Force, she said "but". _Qui-Gon felt his heart begin to pound mercilessly.

Her eyes flickered from the two Jedi then back to her chart. "But there was extensive damage to his right leg where seemingly the entire base of his lower calf was ripped out. Surgery and bacta combined failed to strengthen the ruptured tendons and muscles, and he may lose most of his stability…"

Even though he didn't want to hear the answer, Qui-Gon asked, "What are you saying?"

The Healer shifted her weight looking very uncomfortable under the scrutinizing gaze of Qui-Gon, the dangerous scowl of Mace, and the clueless expression of Kayla. She sniffed a little, and then gave her definite reply to the question. "Knight Kenobi may lose his ability to walk."

* * *

_To be continued._

_

* * *

_**AN:** It feels like I've neglected Kayla in this chapter, but she'll have a more prominent part later. Questions about the fate of the creatures on Morte and more information on the Obi-Wan/Kayla situation will be revealed in the next chapter. And if you do not remember Master Teige, he appeared in the first chapter of this story.

Please review. :)


	9. Chapter 9

**AN:** You all have permission to whack me around with a stick. It's taken me over a year to write nine measly chapters, and I am _so_ sorry for that. I know I've probably lost a few readers because of this, but thanks a _million_ to those of you who are sticking with this story, even if you are forgetting the plot. :)

* * *

Chapter 9.

* * *

Garen Muln wandered through the halls of the Jedi Temple aimlessly, his eyes downcast as he carefully maneuvered around a group of Younglings whose attention was directed toward a sparring match taking place in the salle. He could not bring himself to take notice of who the battle was between, as his concentration was elsewhere, somewhere that was far more important than a mere lightsaber exercise.

His mind was buzzing with incoherent thoughts, a jumbled mess of words and phrases that really didn't make sense when he put them together. There was nothing that could rouse him from his current daze, save for the rekindled form of his friend, Obi-Wan Kenobi.

When he'd first heard the devastating news, he wasn't entirely sure what to believe. It had hit him like a blow to the chest, stealing the air from his lungs and leaving no time for recovery. Part of him denied the statement given to him by another fellow Jedi, while another part knew that the situation was slightly predictable, if nothing else.

The Council had been daft to even consider sending Obi-Wan on a mission as terrifying and dangerous as the one to Morte—the least they could have done was give him a partner, someone to watch his back in case of the inevitable were to occur. He would have gladly taken that position himself.

But of course, the Council acted on what the Force prescribed them to do as well as Yoda's own personal revelation—not on common sense or instinct. Garen felt that he should be angry at them, troubled by the fact one of his most loyal friends lay in a hospital due to their own false initiatives, but he could not bring himself to do so. The fault of Obi-Wan's injury belonged to no one, and he knew it all too well.

He sighed, shoulders slumping with the effort as he rounded the corner. It had honestly been a while since he'd spoken with his friend, but not because of childish arguments or petty excuses. Clee Rhara, his former Master, had granted him the rank of Knight soon after Obi-Wan had left for Morte. His first few missions had been successful and without inaccuracies, much to his delight, and he was steadily climbing the ladder on the Jedi scale of success.

He only wished the same could be said of Obi-Wan. According to the unreliable whispers floating throughout the Temple, his long-time friend was injured severely and had yet to regain consciousness. He had wilted at that, knowing full well that Obi-Wan had potential and that, in his own eyes, he was meant for something important, something noteworthy and was to be printed in books to be used by the Younglings of the future.

Making a beeline for the Healer's Ward, he continued to mull over recent events somewhat absently. He had spoken with Bant Eerin earlier via comlink and had the unwanted privilege of breaking the news to her, as she was light-years away on a mission of her own. The female Mon Calamari had been devastated, shedding tears as she babbled inarticulately about the injustice of it all.

He narrowly evaded the hurried tempo of a male Healer, stepping out of the way just before they bumped shoulders. After watching the Healer stalk off obliviously, he continued his uneven tread to Obi-Wan's room. Master Windu had given him the room number earlier after a brief praise of his last mission, and the numbers were engraved in his mind permanently, repeating themselves over and over until it was all he could think of.

Gliding down the corridors in silence, his eyes trailed the walls in search of the metallic plaque with the numbered inscription. Once he'd found it, he abruptly came to a halt in front of the door, staring at the white exterior blankly.

He was nearly knocked right off his feet when the door suddenly slid open, a very familiar Jedi pushing his way through without a moment's pause. Garen staggered backwards as Qui-Gon Jinn caught sight of him, shoulders squared and looking mildly surprised. Before either Jedi could offer a greeting or an apology, a young Healer came bustling out, her face drawn tightly as she gave the aged Master an impatient look.

"Master Jinn, I really do think—"

Mace Windu suddenly exited the room behind her, his cloak billowing around his ankles with the abrupt movement. He gave Qui-Gon a stern look and turned to the Healer. "I'll take care of this," he muttered stiffly, and then pulled the Healer by the arm off to a more secluded and private area for them to speak.

Garen watched them disappear around the corner, and then glanced furtively up at the elder Jedi he had known for many years. Qui-Gon was eyeing him with faint appreciation, his posture slowly loosing its tension as he became more comfortable.

"I had not expected you to come," Qui-Gon said quietly, shifting his weight. "Please, come in."

Not trusting his voice at this point, Garen obeyed without question, stepping past the Master and entering the room containing his lifelong friend. His breath escaped him at the sight, and his heart contracted in protest. The person on the bed was not Obi-Wan. It couldn't have been. He was far too pale, too exposed, and he looked so much older since the last time he'd seen him, yet simultaneously looking years younger when set against the stark sheets.

Garen slowly moved closer to the bed, his fingertips lightly resting atop the mattress as he stared at the lax face. "Hey Obi," he whispered softly, resorting to the juvenile nickname Bant had given him. He waited vigilantly for a sarcastic response, the typical retort that the name _Obi_ was for children in their third cycle and not for a seasoned Jedi. But it never came, and that was a bitter pill to swallow.

He found himself agreeing with Bant's previous statement—it was simply not fair. Obi-Wan had been meant for great things. He was fearless and noble, polite and sensitive, and he'd deserved a life full of helpful actions and suitable praise—not one filled with endless pain and torture.

_Stop talking as though he's dead,_ he silently chastised himself. _He's not dead. He's alive. He's right here…_

A poorly concealed whisper broke him from his thoughts, startling him only slightly. "Is that man your friend too?"

Garen turned around in a full circle, searching for the source of the timid, yet youthful voice. For a moment, he believed himself to be going mad. There was no one in the room aside from himself and Master Jinn, and he looked around distractedly. It took him longer than it should have to notice the little girl sitting in the chair next to Qui-Gon's, leaning toward the old Master and staring at Garen as if she were highly suspicious, of him.

Qui-Gon coughed, straightening his posture and looking from the small child, to Garen. "This man is a very close friend of Obi-Wan's." He gestured vaguely with his hand. "Kayla Vosa, meet Garen Muln."

The little girl, now with a name to a face, adorned an expression of the utmost admiration. Her eyes landed on the silver cylinder hanging from his belt, and she asked elatedly, "You're a _Jed-eye_ too?" As he nodded, she squealed with delight before saying graciously, "Pleased to meet you."

Garen nodded to her by means of welcoming and then looked to Qui-Gon for an explanation as to why she was here. Qui-Gon merely shook his head, indicating that the conversation would be acknowledged at a later time.

They sat in silence for a while, Kayla toying with a bandage on her foot while the two Jedi watched the unsteady rise and fall of Obi-Wan's chest. It seemed that the young child could only stand so much stillness, because hardly five minutes had passed before she broke into oblivious chatter.

"D'you people have light-up swords, too? Obi Kenobi had one but he said he lost his, so I never got to see one but my Daddy says they're dangerous 'n only for adults but I think they're pretty I saw one on the holoprojector at my Auntie's house and it was green 'n stuff but I still liked it, and I saw Windy's laser-sword and his was purple. I don't think I like that color 'cause it looks too silly and ish not as pretty…"

A grin seemed to split Garen's face in two. The children within the Temple did not have the same probing innocence as young Kayla here; since birth they had been brought up on fine manners and a quiet demeanor. So naturally, to Garen and probably even to Qui-Gon, seeing the inquisitive blabbering of a child who knew nothing aside from being a child was a pleasant change.

"They are called lightsabers," Qui-Gon corrected, "not light-up swords or laser-swords. And you may see one in time, but for now I ask you to remain still."

Kayla blinked slowly, as if trying to decipher Qui-Gon's words, and then hollered another long stream of words, "D'you think I could get my own _ligh'sabee_, 'cause I wanna have one, but one tha's pretty, and a tiny one too. I don't think I can hold a big one, 'cause they're big…"

By this point, Garen could hardly contain his mirth any longer. A soft chuckle escaped him, and he found himself liking the toddler more and more. She was probably the most naïve person he had come across in years; the universe just didn't hold people like her anymore, most of the population was either too mature for their age or not mature enough.

He glanced over at Qui-Gon and happily noted that the older Jedi was also sporting a rather large grin, but his eyes were still unfocused and locked on Obi-Wan, as if nothing in this world could make him look away. As Kayla fell into silence, once again fiddling with the bandage on her foot, Garen realized that there truly was nothing that could ever cause Qui-Gon to stop caring for Obi-Wan, and why would there be? Thirteen long years together, much like any other Master/Padawan team, it was inevitable that they would not grow to worry for each other in their time apart.

Garen knew from his own experience with his former Master, Clee Rhara, that the bond formed between two Jedi was never-ending, infinite until the day they both perished. And it was not for the first time that he understood why Qui-Gon suddenly appeared to be much older, why his eyes seemed to be so tired and devoid of life, and why the smile that touched his lips never reached his eyes.

He was worried, scared even, of the indefinite outcome of Obi-Wan's first, and possibly last, mission.

_You're doing it again,_ he told himself gruffly. _You're talking as though he'll never recover, like this is the end for him. But it's not, you know it's not…_

The door behind Garen opened shortly after the meek thought, and Master Windu stepped into the room with a sullen look on his face, the Healer no longer in his presence. Garen took notice that he, too, seemed to be years older, but that same resolute mask of austerity hid any form of contrition or optimism he might have been feeling beforehand. He was simply expressionless.

"I spoke with the Healer," the Councilor said, very slowly, as if he carried some shameful guilt. He looked to Qui-Gon wearily. "She believes that while Obi-Wan still holds the threat of never being able to walk properly again, there is also a chance that the treatment healing his damaged lung may backfire, causing his system to stop working all together."

Every question Garen had been meaning to ask was unconsciously answered in those two sentences, and he felt a staggering weight settle upon his shoulders. Obi-Wan was definitely not out of harm's way yet. There was still so much that could go wrong…

"Where is the Healer?" Qui-Gon asked, finally prying his eyes away from his previous student.

"You scared the life out of her," Mace replied with a wistful smile. "I'm quite certain she's switching patients at the moment."

Garen thought he saw a shimmer of pride in Qui-Gon's eyes, but it vanished before he was able to identify it. Remembering what Mace had said upon entry, he voiced quietly, "What did she mean the treatment may backfire? How is that possible?"

Windu met his gaze for the first time and answered, "There have been more than one case of punctured lungs in the last several years. Most of the patients recovered without any complications, but more than half of them reacted poorly to the healing process. Their bodies rejected the medicine, which is a very powerful substance, and the compounds within it worked in opposition, attacking the body rather than healing it."

"And Obi-Wan is in danger of this?" Qui-Gon asked quietly, and Garen knew any spark of hope the defiant Master had held before had just diminished.

"I'm afraid so," Windu confirmed. "But only time will tell. For now, all we can do is wait."

"Wait," Garen heard Qui-Gon mumble. "We've been _waiting_ for hours…"

The Councilor gave no indication that he had heard the frantic grumble of his long-time friend, but simply looked at Obi-Wan for a few more seconds and then lowered himself to Kayla's level, talking to her gently, "There's a room down the hall full of old toys you could play with if you'd like. Other children are in there too, and I'm sure they would love to have a new playmate."

Kayla's large brown eyes widened at the notion. "Do they have _ligh'sabees_?"

Mace smirked a little. "No, I'm not so sure they do, but I'm sure we could find you something else of interest."

"All right," she agreed with a quick nod. "But can I have something to eat? My tummy keeps rumblin'…"

Garen watched in silence as Mace plucked the young girl from her chair, carrying her easily in his arms as he agreed to her previous question. With a snickering laugh, Kayla said goodbye to both he and Qui-Gon and allowed Windu to carry her out the door.

Once she had left, Garen felt as though a large quantity of energy had dissipated from the room. He suddenly felt empty and hollow, like someone had taken something important from him.

"You've noticed, then?" Qui-Gon inquired, glancing at Garen cynically. When he didn't respond, the Master continued, "That presence… the one I'm sure you felt just vanish. It belongs to Kayla; she is particularly strong in the Living Force. It's likely the reason why she doesn't question her father's whereabouts, or ask about the creatures on Morte. She lives in the moment rather than the past. It's a special gift, rarely seen in children her age."

Garen blinked a few times, processing the information. "Does that mean she'll be trained?"

"If there is a Master willing to take someone as old as her, then yes."

"She is not that old, there can't be any danger of her turning," Garen reasoned. "I'm sure someone will take her."

"It's doubtful. And yes, she is still young, but she has also seen things children her age should not witness. There is always the possibility of those feelings resurfacing, and there are few Masters willing to take that chance. No one wants to be responsible for the training of a Sith."

Garen noticed the bitter edge to Jinn's voice and wordlessly turned away, focusing on the near-silent vibrations the remedial machinery created. He found little comfort in the constant beeps and whirrs, half expecting the moment to arise when those noises would stop all together, and the room would be left in an excruciating, rejected silence.

He glanced over at Obi-Wan's lax face, the recognition spurring a stream of fresh memories of their time together as Initiates, and although the memories were vague and without precision, a sweet feeling of tranquility washed over him, causing the lump in his throat to lessen in size. In that moment, he realized that he would give anything to see a hint of consciousness spread across the familiar attributes.

A shark intake of breath, one that did not originate from himself, interrupted his degrading stream of thoughts. Garen raised his eyes, his stomach roiling when he saw Qui-Gon with a hand to his brow, eyes shut tightly and shoulders quivering. He moved to assist the elder Jedi, but came to an abrupt halt as another wheeze of discomfort hindered his objective—the noise, this time, coming from his dear friend.

Suddenly, without much of a warning, the Force around them seemed to shrivel, twisting and curling until it was barely a consolation. A tremendous wave of despair nearly brought the two of them to their knees, and Obi-Wan began to mutter incoherently in his bed, moans and painful jerks indicating that something was distressing him, waking him from his peaceful slumber.

Vaguely aware, Garen watched as his friend's teacher pulled himself to Obi-Wan's side, gripping the loose hand with more strength than could be furnished in such a situation. Another ripple of torment filtered through the air, but whether it came from the Master or apprentice, Garen was unsure.

The churning and weaving of the Force ceased at last, allowing Garen to collapse backward into one of the chairs, his chest heaving and a definite pressure in his temples. After his mild discomfort passed, he glanced over at Qui-Gon and his protégé.

Qui-Gon was now sitting on the bed, one leg pulled underneath him, hand still grasping Obi-Wan's as he whispered meaningless words of comfort to his still-troubled Padawan. Obi-Wan appeared to be shaken to the very core, his thin body wracked with light tremors, blankets doing nothing to soothe him.

Slumping in the firmly padded chair, Garen waited. For now, it was all he could do.

--

Obi-Wan felt a light, tingling sensation wash over him. It was soothing, welcoming even, beckoning him to fall into an even deeper rest. He was tempted, his long hours of oblivion finally taking their toll on his battered and weakened frame. The mere thought of sinking into a more peaceful state of mind, where there would be no more pain, was overwhelming, and took most of his energy to defy it.

The moment he resisted, a bright flare of pain erupted somewhere in his mind and he was greeted by a cluster of images, none of them containing a single happy memory, but more as a vision of what was to come. Pain and suffering, misery and futility, darkness and ruin…

Two familiar faces flashed across his vision, and he worked solely to focus on that one revelation, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was transpiring between them. The pain increased tenfold as the vision became clearer, the visualizations beginning to piece themselves together and forming a vivid representation of the future.

_Anakin was running through the Jedi Temple, using the Force to excel his momentum and slaughtering every being that interfered. Younglings screamed in terror as they fled to their rooms. They were swiftly cut down by Anakin's blade. Only one child remained, and she sat in a corner, trying to hide from the man she once looked up to. Tears streaked down her young face and she gave a small whimper. Her dead classmates lay strewn around her in mangled heaps. Anakin moved towards her and she retreated even further into her corner._

_"Master Skywalker," she whimpered, "why are you doing this?"_

_Anakin gave no answer. He simply gave his lightsaber a twirl and cut the child down as if she were nothing but a nuisance. His expression was emotionless. No regret, no pain, no sorrow._

_Masters assailed Anakin in a pitiful attempt to stop him but were killed in a matter of seconds. Darkness flowed through and around the young Skywalker. He was no longer the little boy from Tatooine. He was a murderer. A betrayer to the Jedi and all it ever stood for._

_Qui-Gon suddenly entered the picture. His expression was impassive, unreadable. He ignited his lightsaber and approached Anakin with involuntary authority. _

_Anakin smirked. "Hello, Master."_

"_I'm disappointed in you, Ani," Qui-Gon whispered gravely, "you were meant for so much. You held such promise. I trusted in you, Padawan, and you took it all for granted. Look at what you've done. You were manipulated; the boy I raised would not do this."_

"_You're wrong," Anakin snarled, pacing back and forth like a caged beast. "You never trusted me, never cared. No one did. Ever since your precious Obi-Wan was taken from you all those years ago you've done nothing but order me around!"_

_Qui-Gon flinched, his expression turning somber. "This is about him, isn't it?"_

_A guttural growl emitted from Anakin. "Of course it is! After he died you completely ignored everything I did! All you ever thought or spoke about was that damn coward!" The darkness suddenly surged, and Anakin stopped pacing. He glowered at Qui-Gon menacingly. "No matter what I did, I could never seem to please you enough. You were always comparing me to him, telling me I should act more like he did."_

"_Padawan—"_

"_Don't call me that!" Anakin screamed, his eyes ablaze with unmasked fury. "I heard the both of you talking! I heard that ridiculous promise you made to him! I was standing right outside the door!"_

_Qui-Gon seemed at a loss for words, slowly shaking his head and stepping forward. "I never made that promise, Ani."_

"_But you thought about it! Every time you looked at me you thought of that damn obligation you never made! You knew he was right all along, and yet you've done nothing to prevent it." Anakin threw out his arms in mock greeting. "Well here we are, Master! Just the two of us and a broken promise."_

"_Anakin," the old Master tried to reason, "listen to yourself. The Chancellor has fed you nothing but lies. The Jedi are what they were in the very beginning!"_

"_The Jedi were never good!" Anakin objected spitefully._

_Qui-Gon's eyes were full of despair. "And what about me?" he whispered. Anakin seemed to falter at this. "I've done everything for you. You were the only person who kept me going after… after Obi-Wan. You are like my son, Anakin. Nothing will change that."_

_After a quick moment, Anakin scowled and resumed in his pacing, lightsaber hilt gripped tightly in his fist. "Don't make me kill you."_

_Qui-Gon shifted his stance, his eyes never leaving Anakin's. "You have been fed lies, Ani. I suppose I failed in teaching you the art of perception, and that is my fault alone."_

"_My name is Darth Vader, old man! It would be wise for you to address me as such!"_

"_No," Qui-Gon shook his head curtly, his eyes brimmed with tears. "You are Anakin Skywalker, and you always will be."_

"_You just can't accept change, can you?" Anakin taunted, glowering from underneath the fringe of his hair. "You're so caught up in the way things were that you can't even consider the fact that you've failed three of your students. Two to the Dark Side, and one to death! How does that _feel_, Master? How does it feel to be pathetic and weak, much like Obi-Wan once was?"_

_For the first time, a familiar green blade was raised abruptly into an offensive position, the very tip a mere centimeter from the younger Jedi's throat. Qui-Gon's expression was one of caution and wrath, the lines on his face becoming more prominent with each heaving breath. "Do not say that," he muttered perilously._

_A sinister cackle erupted from Anakin's throat, and he goaded callously, "Found a weak spot, have I? Does it mean anything to you that your precious Obi-Wan died knowing you didn't believe him? Does it even matter to you that he was right and you were wrong, or are you still too damn _stubborn_ to admit your faults?"_

_With an outraged growl, Qui-Gon lunged forward, his lightsaber swooping into a downward arc and nearly severing Skywalker's arm, had it not been for the hindrance of his own blue blade. Both weapons became a spiraling mass of color as they came in contact with each other, the blades sizzling and crackling with each crashing blow…_

Obi-Wan instinctively flinched, a moan escaping his throat as he struggled to ward off the oncoming visions. He did not want to watch anymore—it was hard enough as it was. Pain laced his brow, and he felt his body begin to shiver violently with the strain of repressing the divination. It hurt so much…

"_You're weak, pathetic and a failure as a Jedi!" Anakin snarled at Qui-Gon, their blades locked in a battle of strength. "You've let everyone down; you couldn't bring Xanatos back to the Light, you lost Obi-Wan to death, and now you will die at my own hand. And you mean nothing to me."_

_Stop…_ Obi-Wan whispered to himself, working harder to suppress the madness he was being forced to witness. _Please stop… I don't want to see this…_

_-Obi-Wan?-_

Hid mind froze, the last vestiges of the vision beginning to fade as that all-too-familiar voice entered his mind.

_-Are you with me, Padawan?-_

_Why does he call me that still? _Obi-Wan wondered wearily.

_-Can you hear me?-_

He relished in the comfort of having his former Master's presence in his mind once more, knowing their bond was still intact and stable. But just as that warm feeling was received, his body seemed to have other ideas. Darkness overtook him once more, and he whimpered loudly as the vision repeated itself. He felt pain like no other course through his body.

_-Obi-Wan!-_

He tried to hold onto the voice, feel its presence, but it slipped through his grasp easily and seemed to vanish, although part of him thought he could still hear a deep voice shouting his name, begging him to answer.

--

Qui-Gon's stomach gave a quick lurch, and he frantically grasped his pupil's hand. He sent waves of healing energy into the broken body before him, willing the Force-drawn influence to mend his wounds and bring him back to reality. The weak response he had received through their bond was enough to give him hope that his former apprentice would wake soon. He held onto that ray of optimism, knowing he would need it later on.

A more desperate part of him wanted to shake the younger man until the prognosis changed, until his world was made right again, and Obi-Wan was back to being the cheeky Padawan he had learned to love. His hand automatically moved to the ginger-haired crown, fingers ruffling through the lengthy strands and offering the same comfort he had provided back in their partnership, when the wall that had formed between them was nonexistent.

"He… he doesn't look so well," a whispered voice murmured, taut with emotion. It was Garen, and the young man sounded as distraught as he was.

Qui-Gon lifted his eyes to the pale face of Obi-Wan, his chest tightening when he noticed that he _was_ looking progressively worse. His body was shaken with light tremors, barely visible unless one looked closely, and his breathing had become labored, an inaudible wheeze taking place of the normal respiratory inhalation he was used to hearing.

Diving back into his senses, Qui-Gon felt the untainted light of his Padawan begin to diminish. His world and purpose was obliterating before his own eyes, the comforting presence in his mind and heart starting to fade. Desperately, he cupped the pallid cheek and turned the lax face toward himself, willing his student to listen to him, to spare him this grief that had begun the moment Obi-Wan had left in a flurry of robes that long year ago.

_You can't take him from me, _he said in undertone. _I can't lose him._

He vaguely noted the opening and closing of the door, and came to the conclusion that young Garen had left the room, but he paid no mind to his reasons. It was better this way, to be alone with the one person who meant everything to him.

_-Obi-Wan?-_ he tried once more out of desperation.

Nothing.

Grief tugged at his heart, and pain seeped into his eyes. A sense of complete _wrongness_ reverberated in the air, carving an irreversible ache into his bones and causing his stoic expression to weaken.

The skin of his learner had become chilled, and the creased forehead glistened. But with each uneven breath, and the continuous shudders, came a miracle. At first, Qui-Gon believed himself to be maddened by sorrow, his vision and sanity besieged by the pressure of his own heartache. But there it was, as beautiful and guiltless as he remembered—the conscious gaze of his old student.

Obi-Wan had awakened.

* * *

_To be continued._

* * *

**AN: **I _believe_ there are only two chapters left. Please let me know if you saw any spelling errors. I proofread this, but I always seem to miss something. And I've decided, out of pure guilt, to post "story updates" on my profile—just so you guys can visit and see that I actually _am_ _working_ on this fic, and not slacking off. Hopefully the next chapter shouldn't take as long. But you know me… I've said that about eight times already.

Reviews appreciated.


End file.
